Becoming
by bananacosmicgirl
Summary: "Apparently," Barney said, stopping because his voice squeaked. He cleared his throat. "Apparently, I'm gonna be a dad." Gen, Barney-centric with strong friendships with the rest of the characters.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Becoming**  
Author: **Cosmic

**Email: **bananacosmicgirl at hotmail . com**  
Website:** www . cosmicuniverse . net**  
LiveJournal: **bananacosmic . livejournal . com

**Words:** 22 700**  
Chapters:** 8 + epilogue**  
Rating: **PG-13**  
Genre:** Family, friendship, angst**  
Characters: **Barney Stinson, cast, OFC**  
Pairing:** None, (previous Barney/OFC and Barney/Robin)

**Warnings: **None

**Spoilers: **Up to 5x16 "Of course"

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations from the tv-show "How I met your mother" created and owned by X. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Summary:** "Apparently," Barney said, stopping because his voice squeaked. He cleared his throat. "Apparently, I'm gonna be a dad."

**Author's notes:** This is Barney/OFC, but it really isn't the point of the fic. It's very Barney-centric with strong friendships with the other four. Takes place in a late season five where Robin is with Don. Written in just over a week, because this practically wrote itself.

-

**Becoming**

By cosmic

-

**One.**

Barney shut his phone. No one had really been listening to what he'd been saying – they were discussing the merits of latest James Bond movies, though Ted had no idea how they'd gotten to that particular topic – and they didn't stop to ask what the phone call had been about.

Only a little later, when they'd moved onto Robin's latest date – Ted was fairly certain Marshall's crush on Don was just as big as Robin's was – did Ted notice. Barney hadn't said a word in ten minutes, which was the equivalent of four eternities in Barney-land.

"What's up, dude?" Ted asked, a little quieter, cocking his head to the side.

Marshall was listening to Robin ramble on about Don and Lily was watching them with fond smiles.

"Uh," said Barney, unusually ineloquent. "Do you remember a girl named Marie?"

"One of your conquests?" Ted asked. "I didn't think _you_ remembered all your conquests, so how would I know?"

Barney studied his glass, swirling the alcohol around. "Yeah."

Ted reached out and placed a hand on Barney's arm. "Dude. You're pale as a sheet. What's going on?"

"Apparently," Barney said, stopping because his voice squeaked. He cleared his throat. "Apparently, I'm gonna be a dad."

Ted's eyebrows rose. "Again?"

Barney glared at him.

"What?" Ted said. "The last time, you invented Not A Father's Day. Are you sure that this isn't just another false alarm?"

Barney returned his gaze to his glass. "Doubt it. I hooked up with her six months ago."

Ted's mouth fell open.

Barney glanced at him and snorted. "Yeah. She sent me a picture and everything." He waved his phone around. "Don't think that stomach's a false alarm. And besides, I told you. The Barnacle's little swimmers – they don't do things by half."

"Guys," Lily said and Ted noticed suddenly that the other three around the table had fallen silent. "Barney – are you—are you talking about what it sounds like you're talking about?"

Ted couldn't get over what Barney had just told him. Barney. A father. And pretty soon too.

Barney.

A dad.

Ted had never, ever, _ever_ pictured Barney as a dad. Not even with the whole Not A Father's Day debacle, because he'd known that somehow, Barney was going to get out of it. It was just Barney.

But maybe not this time?

"Maybe the kid isn't yours," Ted said and he wasn't sure if he was interrupting anyone else, because he couldn't really hear them.

Barney shrugged.

Somehow, it seemed that Barney too had realized that he'd gotten out of dicey situations enough times already and that this one was going to stick.

"What are you going to do?" asked Robin.

Barney looked at her. Ted couldn't describe the look on his face; he'd never seen such a look in Barney's eyes before. It looked like pure panic.

Barney downed the content of his glass in one large gulp and then grabbed Ted's beer. Thirty seconds later, Ted's glass was also empty. Barney waved for Wendy to come over.

"Give me alcohol," he said.

"You'll have to be a little more specifi—"

"Just alcohol!" Barney snapped, interrupting her.

She frowned at him and muttered something under her breath, but left.

Barney stared longingly at his empty glass. "Tonight, she can poison Barney Stinson all she wants."

"Oh, Barney, come on," Lily said, "It's not that bad."

Ted was pretty sure that that wasn't the right thing to say. He could only imagine that in Barney's world, getting a girl pregnant was, in fact, the very worst thing that could ever happen in the entire universe. It came long before, say, cancer or another world war.

Wendy returned with a bottle of vodka. It wasn't particularly good vodka, but that clearly wasn't something Barney could be bothered with tonight anyway. Without thanks, he grabbed the bottle and drank straight from it until his face was so scrunched up it looked like he was going to cry.

Ted stood up. "Maybe we shouldn't be doing this here."

"I think this place is fine," Barney said. "It has alcohol and everything."

Ted gave him a look. "Yeah, but if you continue like that, you'll end up with alcohol poisoning."

He grabbed Barney by the arm and hauled him up. Barney kept a secure hold on the bottle of vodka and then started for the door, looking slightly unsteady already.

Ted looked at the others. "I'm taking him upstairs. I'll—I don't know. Something."

"Don't you want us to—" Lily started.

"I don't think he needs people in happy couple-dom right now," Ted said. He looked at Robin. "You might want to sleep over at Don's tonight."

Robin took a breath as to protest and Ted bolted with a quick 'bye!' before she could get the first syllable out.

Somehow, he felt he needed to be the one looking after Barney tonight. Lily and Marshall, married and no doubt with kids on a fairly near horizon, would only try to convince him that a child was a beautiful gift, or something like that. While that was true, Ted knew it wasn't something Barney needed to hear, at least not tonight. Tomorrow, maybe, but not tonight.

And Robin – well, she was Barney's ex-girlfriend and she was in a happy relationship with Don and she'd never been any good at all with feelings. She might be able to understand why Barney didn't want to have kids, but…

Ted's reasoning wasn't all that sound, he realized, but pushed that thought out of his mind. He'd already managed to ditch them.

Barney had made it outside and was walking down the street instead of up to the apartment. He was taking swigs of vodka every few steps and his gait was more unsteady now than it had been just minutes ago in MacLaren's.

"Barney!" Ted said, hurrying after him.

"Ted." Barney turned around and gazed, slightly unfocused, at him. "Ted, my best friend."

"Well, Marshall is—" Ted stopped at Barney's look. "Not important."

"Damn straight," Barney said. "Not important. 'm important. Mighty important. So important, I knock girls up in a single try. Yeah, that's me, Barney the One Hit Wonder."

He giggled. Ted heard pain in the laughter.

"C'mon. Let's get you upstairs." Ted grabbed Barney's arm again, this time steering him towards the stairs. When Barney tried to guzzle more vodka, Ted took the bottle from him.

"Teeed!" Barney whined.

"You'll get it back when we get upstairs," Ted promised as they started up the stairs. "I just don't want to drive you to the hospital to get your stomach pumped, okay?"

Barney frowned at him. "I hate stomachs."

"I'm sure you do."

"Things grow in stomachs," Barney continued. "Things that shouldn't. Like little versions of me! Little versions of me should _not_ be growing in stomachs."

"It might be a girl," Ted said. "That wouldn't be a mini-you."

Barney glared darkly at him, through the haze of alcohol. "Not helping."

"Sorry." They were silent until they reached the hallway. "What did Marie say when she called, anyway?"

Barney stole the bottle of vodka from Ted and took a drink before Ted could stop him. Then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gave Ted back the bottle, looking a little guilty.

"Don't remember the exact words," he muttered. "But it was something along the lines of, 'hi, remember me, yeah, we hooked up like six months ago and I just thought I'd tell you that you're gonna be a daddy in three months.' Stupid. Stupid Marie. Stupid, stupid, _stupid_ Barney."

"Can't argue with you there," Ted said.

He unlocked the door and they were greeted with the dark apartment. Barney wandered over to the couch and was slouched on it before Ted had time to turn the lights on.

"Do you want anything?" Ted asked.

"D'you have a time machine?"

"Fresh out." Ted sat down next to Barney on the couch and gave him the bottle. It was like giving, well, a bottle, to a two-year-old. Barney snatched it out of Ted's hand and drank from it greedily. Again, his face scrunched up.

"What am I gonna do, Ted?" he asked, winy and pitiful.

Ted watched him. It was Barney's own fault that he was in this situation – to be honest, he'd had it coming for years – but there was still a part of Ted that found it hard to not feel bad for the guy. Barney was always so much larger than life and this was just… ordinary.

He had to be serious when he answered. "You're going to take your responsibility with the child."

Barney's eyes were blue and big. "I don't know how to be a dad."

"Then you'll have to learn."

Barney leaned back and closed his eyes. His suit had gotten rumpled at some point and there seemed to be no energy left in his body. Considering the abundance of energy Barney normally exuded, this version felt very wrong.

"I think I'm gonna drink 'til I pass out," Barney said, the slur to his voice a good indication that he was already on his way to his goal.

Ted was about to say no, but decided against it. Barney deserved one night of drinking until he forgot everything. Tomorrow, he'd feel like crap ten times over and then he'd have the day, and the rest of his life, to figure all the other things out.

Ted didn't envy him.

--

Barney hadn't suffered a hangover this bad since he was twenty-three. That had been after Shannon, the first time James ever took him out drinking. Barney had been completely unable to handle alcohol for obvious reasons – seeing how he'd never drank anything except water, milk and the occasional soda before – and he'd ended up puking in his brother's shower until the wee hours of the morning.

The thought of his brother made him think of his nephew and that in turn dragged Barney's thoughts straight back to Marie and the picture she'd sent over of her in maternity pants with a bulging belly.

It was enough to make him hurl again.

A baby.

A little kid.

What the hell was he supposed to do with a kid?

To be perfectly honest, he liked kids. Especially the little ones. They were easy to understand – they ate and pooped, slept and had that cute toothless grin that made all grownups smile.

But one of his own?

His father had never been around. And it wasn't Bob Barker either, even though that had been a nice flight of fantasy when he was little. No, it had just been him, James and their mother. Guys had come and gone but no one had stayed longer than a few weeks.

He had no idea what a father was. What did a dad do?

He wished Marshall and Lily had a kid – then he'd at least have a role model. He had no doubt that Marshall would be a great dad. They did everything great, those two, and they made it look so easy.

Maybe he should ask them for help.

His stomach was still churning, but he stood up gingerly anyway. He could smell coffee wafting in and he figured he'd be able to get a little bit down. Maybe with a cracker or two. He brushed his teeth before leaving the bathroom, avoiding all the while looking at his own reflection. He didn't want to see himself in one of Ted's old t-shirts with his hair on end and eyes bloodshot. This was a low moment.

When he stumbled into the kitchen, Ted was already there, moving about at too fast a pace for Barney's bleary brain to keep up. Things were too bright and too loud.

"Morning, sunshine," Ted said, way too happy in the face of Barney's misery.

"Shut up," he muttered.

Ted smiled slightly and handed Barney a cup of coffee. When Barney looked at him, he saw teasing but also gentle understanding in Ted's eyes.

He managed to get to the table in the living room without spilling coffee all over the place.

"So, are things better today?" Ted asked, joining him with a plate of toast.

"If by better you mean that it's hell and that the kid's probably grown a little more since last night, then yeah, things are fantastic," Barney muttered. Then he wished he hadn't talked so much because his head pounded.

Ted took a bite of toast. "You should get a paternity test when the kid's born."

Barney looked up, a little too fast because it made his head feel like there were little monkeys with drums playing inside his skill.

"Say what?"

"A paternity test," Ted said. "You know, so that you're really the dad and not some other moron."

"I'm not a moron," Barney said.

"You knocked up a girl during a one-night-stand."

Barney had to concede that he had a point, no matter how much Barney didn't like it.

He wanted to think that a paternity test was going to do all the difference in the world. That it was going to come back negative, tell him that nah, it wasn't him, it was Moron Number Two who was the father instead.

But somehow even the sunny, positive side of him didn't think so. Just like he'd hadn't reacted this badly the last time – or either of the two times before that – because he had known, like a gut feeling that it wasn't going to be anything, he knew that this time, it was going to be something.

It was going to be a kid and it was going to be his kid.

He set the coffee cup down abruptly. Too abruptly; the hot liquid spilled over the edge of the cup and scalded his hand.

"Stupid coffee," he muttered, wiping his hand with a napkin Ted offered.

Ted regarded him. "Are you going to see her?"

"Well, gee, Ted, I don't know. Might be a good idea, since you think I should be a dad to the kid. Might have to see her every now and again." He wished immediately he hadn't snapped. Nausea rose in his throat and he ran to the bathroom, only barely making it to the toilet in time.

When he came back to reality – one that didn't consist of just trying to turn your insides out – Ted was next to him, sitting leaned against the tub.

"You're handling this really well," Ted said.

Barney managed a bleary glare at him.

"If you want us to hate her, we will." Ted looked suddenly sincere and kind, the teasing gone. "You're both at fault for making the baby, but her not telling you until now—that's low. Really low."

Barney wanted to shrug but suspected that if he did, he'd throw up again. "I'll get back to you on that."

Ted handed him a glass of water, which Barney took gratefully. After rinsing and spitting, Barney leaned back against the tile of the bathtub next to Ted. It felt cool and nice against his back.

"I don't know what to do," he said, eyes closed. "I mean, my own father—and it's not like there were any other good role models. What the hell am I supposed to do with a kid?"

He heard Ted's smile even though his world was blissfully dark. "Teach him or her to be awesome, of course. I'm thinking that's gonna take a while, even if the kid's yours, so there's a few years gone by to start with. And then when you're done with that, and your kid is a little awesome mini-you, well… by then, you're gonna be so into it that you won't have to think about it anymore."

Barney wasn't sure that any of what Ted had just said really made sense, but somehow it did anyway. And even more oddly, it calmed him. The panicked white noise that had filled his head ever since Marie told him the news dimmed a little.

He felt Ted's arm around his shoulders, grounding him amidst all the awfulness.

"You'll be fine, Barney," Ted said.

Barney gave a small huff. "The Barnacle isn't fine. He's _awesome_."

-


	2. Chapter 2

**Becoming**

By cosmic

**Two.**

Marie lived in a tiny apartment. The only other apartment Barney had ever seen that was as small, was the hole in the wall that Lily had lived in for a while when she'd been broken up with Marshall. Marie's apartment was along the same lines.

He wrinkled his nose. "You live here?"

Maybe he should check the girls he took home, just in case he'd ever have to see them again. Like in this case.

Marie gave him a tired look. "What are you doing here, Barney?"

Barney closed the door behind him. Marie stood with her hands on her hips – not that he could see much of her hips, what with the big huge belly she was sporting. It kind of drew his attention, even more so than her boobs, though the latter were bigger than he could remember.

"Figured I should, eh, come by," Barney said.

"Why?"

Barney motioned at her belly. "You know. That."

She sighed. "Look, I didn't call to tell you because I want anything from you." She leaned against a tiny desk which was squeezed in next to her bed. "Really. I mean, child support would be nice, but—I didn't do this to tie you down or anything. I decided to have this baby on my own and never gave you a say, and I'm not going to demand that you be involved."

He stared at her. "Then why did you call me?"

He wondered what would have happened if she hadn't. If he'd found out in a few years, then what? If the kid had found out first and looked him up? Would that have been better? At least he wouldn't have had to handle it right now. Ted and Marshall had the right idea with the whole 'future Ted and Marshall can handle it'. This would totally be something future Barney could handle.

Marie shrugged. "I just thought you should know."

Barney gave a mirthless snort. "You thought I should know. After six months, you thought I should know?"

He didn't like the slightly crazy tint to his voice, but he couldn't keep it out.

"I meant to tell you," she said.

"Oh, well then, that just makes everything magically better. Oh wait, no it _doesn't_."

She flinched.

"How could you just decide this and not even think to tell me?" Barney asked.

"I wanted to tell you," she said.

"Obviously."

"Shut up," Marie snapped. "It's not like I had your phone number, or even your real name. And I wasn't exactly sober when we got to your place, or when I left." She glared at him. "But the bartender knew you and gave me your name."

"And then it took you six months to call?" Barney asked.

"It's not like I realized I was pregnant the day after we hooked up."

"And when you started looking like a beached whale, that wasn't a clue?"

They glared at each other, both angry enough that if looks could kill, they'd both be dead.

"It took me two months to realize," Marie said finally. "And then another few weeks to figure out a way to get your name and phone number." She sighed. "And then I had to work up the courage."

Barney deflated a little at the sound of her voice, which was softer now.

Marie looked at the floor. "Barney, I'm sorry about this. But I decided to keep the kid and raise it on my own. I'm not expecting anything from you. You don't have to be involved at all. I just thought you should know."

He thought about getting up and leaving. He could send her a check every month to cover the expenses of raising a kid in New York and then never talk to her or the kid again.

Ted's voice about taking responsibility rang in his head.

Marie had cocked her head to the side while his thoughts were running wild. "You don't want to be involved, right? I mean, you don't really seem like a guy who's interested in anything long-term."

Barney made a face. "I'm not."

The only one he'd managed to be a little long-term with was Robin and even that hadn't lasted more than a few months. Going steady with Marie, who'd fallen for one of his many techniques of seduction – he didn't remember which one – was—unthinkable. He'd been there, hit that, wasn't looking to do it again.

His eyes were drawn back to her belly.

"You're sure it's mine?" he asked.

Her face grew darker again. "I don't sleep around. I got drunk that night because I'd just failed an exam for the first time in my life, nothing else. I usually don't drink at all. And I'm pretty sure I never will again. My judgment that night was obviously poor."

That was an insult, but they were both trading off enough anger already, so he didn't take offense.

He knew he didn't have to believe her, but he did anyway. It was something about karma and stuff. He'd had this coming all along, ever since he'd transformed into suit-wearing, awesome Barney and had started lying and seducing girls as though his life depended on it.

"Just had to ask," Barney said.

She walked to the door – all five feet's worth, brushing past him on the way – and opened it. "Look, I told you. I don't want anything from you. I just figured I'd tell you, because I will tell the kid who its father is."

Barney's headache – the one that hadn't loosened its grip since he woke up with the hangover of doom that morning – turned up a few degrees.

"Great," he mumbled.

If she didn't want him in her life, didn't want him in the kid's life, and he didn't want to be in either of their lives, then everything was much easier, wasn't it? Then it would just be a matter of signing a check – and he did that often enough anyway that one more wouldn't even be noticeable, right?

He left without looking back.

It was two-something-something in the morning when Ted's phone started ringing insistently. Groggily, Ted reached out to grab the annoying thing.

"'lo."

"Hey, Ted." Barney managed to put so many emotions in those two words and Ted couldn't even begin to decipher it, only barely awake as he was.

"Barney? What—why're you calling at—" He squinted at the clock, trying to get his brain working to understand the numbers, "—two thirty-six in the morning?"

Barney was silent for a moment. "I need you to come and get me."

"What? Why? And no, I really don't," Ted said.

Barney was silent again, then he mumbled, "Ted, please."

Ted frowned. There was something off about Barney's tone and even if Barney could be extremely annoying at times, he usually didn't call at this time of night. Had something happened?

"Where are you?"

Barney sighed, softly, on the other end. "Atlantic City." Another pause, then, "They have a really nice jail here."

Ted was waking up more and more and at that, he sat up abruptly. "What did you do?"

"Ted, please, I'll tell you, just—come get me first?" He sounded so quiet and soft and sad.

Ted was already out of bed, thoughts running wild. In seconds, his mind had come up with two dozen explanations for Barney being in jail in Atlantic City. Obviously, because no one went to jail for being a good person, all the explanations he ran through were varying degrees of bad.

Barney gave him an address and Ted scribbled it on a note.

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

He barely heard Barney's quiet reply. "Thanks."

At least there was little to no traffic out at this hour. Sane people were sleeping right now.

Obviously, Barney had done something insane instead. If he'd gone to Atlantic City, Ted had to conclude that he'd gone there to gamble and considering the Barney's current emotional state, he'd probably combined that gambling with a whole lot of alcohol. With worsening judgment, any one of a hundred things could have happened.

As he drove, Ted wondered what Barney's current emotional state actually was. He hadn't seen Barney in four days. On Sunday, he'd dropped Barney off at his place after Barney had crashed at Ted's for the night. Crashed had been the exact right word, too. Barney had disappeared off their radars since; no one in the gang had heard so much as a peep from him. According to Marshall, he hadn't been at work.

Atlantic City was wrapped in light morning fog as he drove in. It didn't take him long to find his way to the police station where Barney was being held.

It turned out that it wasn't quite as bad as he'd thought. There was no bail to pay – they just wouldn't let Barney, drunk as he still was, go without someone going with him.

"He got a little rowdy and the casino wanted him calmed down," the police officer told him, a little tiredly. "We'll need his contact info, though, if the DA decides to press charges at the guy who hit him."

"Barney got into a fight?"

"Was on the receiving end, mostly, according to witnesses."

"Oh."

Ted was taken through the station to a cell with a mattress and a stench of urine and vomit that made his stomach churn.

Barney was sitting in a dark corner, legs splayed out, staring at his hands. His hair was unkempt and pointing in every direction.

"Mr. Stinson."

Barney looked up at the sound of the police man's voice.

"Ted!" Relief crossed Barney's face and he scrambled unsteadily to his feet as soon as he saw Ted.

The police officer unlocked the door and suddenly Ted had an armful of Barney. The police man grunted something about paper work and left them.

"Barney, what happened to you?" Ted pulled away from him.

Barney swayed a little on his feet, but he stayed standing. Only now could Ted get a good look at him – and he was horrified by what he saw. This was a shadow of the Barney he knew. This one wore a crinkled and dirty suit and had dark shadows all across his face, the circles around his eyes nearly purple. There was a fat, colorful bruise across his cheek, spreading up to his eyebrow and across his eye. Someone had done a number on him.

"I just needed to forget stuff," Barney muttered.

"Forget and get beaten up?" Ted asked, disbelief coloring his voice.

Barney gave him a half-hearted glare. "I didn't plan that."

Ted reached out to get a better look at the bruise on Barney's face; Barney flinched away from his touch.

"Can we just go home?" Barney said. "I've already puked, but I'm pretty sure I can find more to come up if we stay in this place."

He sounded young and yet terribly tired, shoulders slumped under a heavy weight. A part of Ted wanted to yell at Barney for doing this, while another just wanted to take care of the idiot.

All this because of a baby?

Ted could see how a baby with a stranger would be a bad thing, especially in Barney's world, but this? Really?

He hovered around Barney as they made their way out. Ted signed a bunch of papers and Barney collected his things, and then Ted loaded Barney into the front seat of his car. There was a moment when Ted wondered if he'd have to buckle Barney up, because it all felt like taking care of an unruly kid, but then Barney did it on his own.

He leaned back and closed his eyes as Ted started the car.

They were out on the highway by the time Ted spoke again. He was pretty sure that Barney was half-asleep, but he still had to ask.

"So what happened?"

Barney opened his eyes, squinting at Ted and the light of the rising sun. It was way, way too early in the morning.

"I played some games, was awesome and won some money, and then someone got angry because they wanted to be awesome too but they weren't," Barney said.

It wasn't exactly a detailed explanation, but it still gave Ted enough to get some semblance of a grip on the events that had led to Barney calling him from a police station in the middle of the night.

"When did you go to Atlantic City?" he asked instead of trying to force more details out of Barney.

Barney stared out the window. "Sunday."

"You've just been gambling for four days? Don't you have a job?" Ted frowned at him.

"Took some time off," Barney said. "I've a lot of vacation time saved up."

Ted already knew that, or he'd figured as much at least. Except for an odd day here or there, Barney hadn't ever taken a vacation. Well, except for the three months he'd spent hospitalized and in rehab after the bus accident. And that hadn't exactly been a vacation.

Ted glanced at Barney, at the weariness that seemed to emanate from him in waves. "Is this how you're gonna handle it?"

Barney scoffed softly. "Something wrong with what I'm doing?"

"I'm guessing you've been drunk since she called you," Ted said. "Not sure that can be classified as healthy, or handling things. And then all the gambling—"

"Hey, I won more than I lost." He didn't sound proud. "Because I'm awesome."

"I had to pick you up in the middle of the night from a police station," Ted said. "That's not 'awesome'. That's sad and stupid."

Barney looked at his hands. "Not everyone can be Mr. Right and Mr. Dad like you. Besides, she doesn't want me around, so it doesn't matter."

Ted frowned. "You talked to Marie?"

Barney sighed. "I went to see her."

Ted had to be impressed. He hadn't expected Barney to have the courage to face the girl, at least not so soon and certainly not alone. Apparently he had more of a backbone than Ted had thought.

He felt a little bad for thinking that. Barney wasn't a bad person. He did bad stuff on occasion – mostly involving lies and deceit to get girls into bed – but he didn't deliberately hurt anyone, and he did take responsibility for his actions.

"What did she say?"

Barney's gaze returned to the landscapes passing by outside the car window. "Doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters," Ted said.

"No, it doesn't," Barney said, almost a snap. "She doesn't want me around, I don't want to be around, so it all works out perfectly and it doesn't matter."

The fact that he'd just told Ted what she'd said didn't seem to register much with Barney. He stared resolutely out the window, ignoring Ted angrily.

Ted had to wonder at the anger. He knew well enough, even though Barney probably didn't, that it wasn't Ted Barney was angry with. And Ted was pretty sure that it wasn't Marie Barney was angry with either. No, the clues – and Ted was a little impressed with himself that he could tell the clues when it came to Barney, who'd pretty much always been a mystery to him – all pointed in one direction. It was a surprising direction, but a specific one nonetheless.

He didn't have the heart to point it out to Barney. It was something Barney would have to work out for himself. Ted could only hope that it wouldn't take too long for Barney to realize that he wanted to be in his kid's life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Becoming**

By cosmic

**Three.**

Lily got the text from Ted about Barney at ten in the morning. A little surprised, she read that Ted had driven to Atlantic City in the middle of the night to pick Barney up from a police station.

She'd already figured that Barney wasn't handling the whole dad-to-be issue well. She hadn't expected him to; in Barney's mind, there probably weren't many things that were ranked higher on the Do Not Want list than a child.

She'd always figured that she and Marshall would be the first ones to have children of the five of them. After all, they were the ones who'd been going steady for fourteen years. They were married, happy and they were getting a grip on their own economy. If anyone was going to have kids, it was them.

But fate obviously wanted otherwise.

She went straight from work to Barney's apartment and after knocking without getting an answer, she let herself in.

The apartment was clean and quiet. She took off her shoes and crossed the living room to Barney's bedroom.

Barney was asleep beneath a heap of blankets, blond head barely visible. She could hear his soft breaths. She smiled. He looked so young and innocent in sleep.

She caught sight of the colorful bruise on his cheek. Ted had mentioned a fight in their text conversation, but he hadn't said anything about the injuries.

He startled awake suddenly, as though sensing her presence.

"Lily?" he mumbled, sitting up, looking disoriented and still very tired.

"I didn't mean to wake you," she said. "I just thought I'd see how you were doing."

Wrapped in blankets with a bruise on his face and dark circles beneath his eyes, she didn't really need him to tell her how he was doing. It was clear as day.

"'m awesome," Barney said.

Lily gave him a look.

Barney curled in beneath the blankets again, laying his head down on his pillow once more.

"I just need to get some sleep," he muttered.

"In a place that isn't jail." Lily sat down on the side of the bed.

Barney glared at her, though it wasn't very effective from beneath blankets and bruises.

"I wasn't really in jail," he said. "It was at a police station, in their holding cell for people who are too awesome to be out on their own."

"Also known as the drunken cell, where people go to sleep it off when they've been drinking too much," Lily said with a pointed look.

"Semantics," Barney said. "I think my description was better. And if the stupid ass at the casino hadn't tried to beat me up, then I'd still be playing. You know I made like twenty-five thousand dollars in three days?"

"Twenty-five thousand dollars? That's—" She stopped herself. "Not the point." Even though it could pay off a whole chunk of her debt. That wasn't why she was here. "Why did you go to Atlantic City, Barney?"

"It was either that or Vegas, but in Vegas there's always the risk of waking up hitched if you drink way too much one night," Barney said, almost his old self. "I figure a kid on the way is enough, don't need the marriage too. And we both know that's not a risk in Atlantic City, unless you're drunk for three consecutive days. Which admittedly—"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Barney. Come on. Be serious."

"Gee, why does everyone want me to talk feelings all of a sudden?" he asked, making a face and then another when he realized that the first one had hurt.

"We just want to make sure that you're all right."

"I'm awesomely fantastically perfectly all right," Barney said. "Anything else?"

It was like pulling teeth.

"You know," Barney said, sitting up again. "Everyone's acting like I should just be cool and roll with the whole baby thing."

"We're not saying you should just be cool with it," Lily said. "You're in a bad position and we get why you're not jumping with joy. We're just worried about you and we're not sure that gambling in Atlantic City for half a week is the way to solve anything."

"It's not like there's any problem needing to be solved. She's having the kid, I'm the kid's father, ta-daa. Done."

"No, not done! It's a _kid_ we're talking about here."

Barney was getting angry, but she was annoyed enough that she didn't care. He was acting like a child.

"We're not you and Marshall," Barney snapped. "There isn't even a we. There was a we for one night and one night only and since then there's been a me, and a me and Laura, and me and Jennifer, and me and Susan. But no we, not even a repeat of a me and Marie. And even though there's gonna be a kid, there isn't gonna be a we, ever. There isn't even going to be a me in the equation, because no one wants me to be there!"

He was shouting by the end of it, chest heaving beneath his pajama suit. She wondered absentmindedly when he'd gotten rid of the night shirt he'd loaned from Marshall; she knew he'd been more comfortable in that.

The silence felt heavy between them.

"Barney—did she say she doesn't want you around?" Her voice was soft.

"Of course she doesn't want me around," Barney snapped. "Who would?"

"Oh, honey," Lily said and reached for him, heart aching suddenly.

He pulled away. "Don't."

He climbed off the bed and strode past her, to the kitchen. She trailed after him and found him pouring a glass of whiskey. She was about to comment on it when he gave her a look, daring her to say anything. She pursed her lips and stayed quiet.

He gulped the alcohol down in one go, shuddering as it burned its way down.

Lily sighed. "I'm sorry. I just worry about you."

Barney's shoulders sagged a little.

"I don't think it should be a you and Marie, certainly not after what she did with not telling you about this," Lily said. "And I also don't think you should try to be me and Marshall. It's not you. I just think—I don't think you should just wave her goodbye and never see the kid. It's still your child."

Barney was quiet for several long moments. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. "She doesn't want me around."

She gave him a sympathetic smile. "It's not really up to her. It's up to you."

Barney looked at her, naked pain in his eyes. "But I don't know if I want to. I don't know how to be a dad. And I don't know how to love anyone, either. I'll probably just screw the kid up so badly it'll hate me anyway."

She reached across the counter and placed her hand atop his and this time, he didn't pull back. She squeezed his hand gently.

"Of course you know how to love," she said softly. "Don't you love me and Marshall, and Robin and Ted?"

Barney stayed silent.

"Look," Lily said, "I'm not saying it's going to be easy. I'm not even telling you that you really should be a dad to the child. I'm just saying that you should think about it. And if you decide that you want to be there for the baby, then that's great, and there are lawyers you can hire to make sure that you get to have the child too if Marie refuses. And if you decide that you don't want to be involved, then that's okay too. Just make sure it's your decision and not Marie's."

Barney looked at her and she could see the insecurity in his eyes. "But I don't know how to decide."

She smiled slightly. "You can always ask Ted to help you make a pros and cons list. Or have Marshall whip up one of his charts." She patted his hand. "Most of all, I think you need to just think about it. And then decide what your feelings are telling you."

"Pfft," Barney said, a little distantly. "The Barnacle doesn't have feelings."

She chuckled. "Of course you don't. Now come on, let's watch some TV on your mega-screen before I have to go home."

She dragged him to the couch and with little rearranging, she managed to steer him pretty much to her lap. He didn't say anything. She got one of his blankets to cover the both of them.

The TV-screen still hurt her eyes but it was worth it to have Barney relax into sleep in her arms.

It looked like the other four had already been at MacLaren's for a while when Barney got there on Friday evening. He'd spent the whole day at the office, catching up on all the things he hadn't done earlier in the week because he'd been wasted in Atlantic City. He'd probably have to work through the weekend to get ahead again.

"Yo man," Marshall said, wide smile in greeting. "Welcome back!"

Barney didn't doubt for a second that Marshall knew what he'd been up to in the last week – it had proved nigh on impossible for Lily to keep secrets from her husband, after all – but somehow, Marshall played it cool and managed to make it sound like Barney had just taken some vacation time for no real reason.

Certainly not a freaking-out-over-soon-being-a-father reason.

He pushed the thought away. He'd kept himself busy throughout the day and had been able to keep himself from thinking about—things. He could continue with the avoidance thing for a while longer.

He grinned at Marshall and bumped fists with him in greeting. "Good to see you, bro."

He glanced at Lily, feeling a bit embarrassed by the previous afternoon's discussion and subsequent falling asleep in her arms. She just gave him a smile, though, and didn't say anything.

"So, what did I miss?" he asked.

"Only Robin's description of the most awesome date ever with Don," Marshall said dreamily.

Robin rolled her eyes. "I swear to God, you've got a bigger crush on my boyfriend than I do."

"He's hot, he's nice and he brings you flowers," Marshall said.

Ted chuckled. "Lily, it sounds like you've got competition."

Lily smiled and shook her head fondly. "Don't I know it."

A waitress arrived with their order of food and Barney ordered a hamburger for himself, realizing that he hadn't eaten since the half bagel he'd had for breakfast.

He listened as the others talked and let his gaze sweep across the other guests. He noted the beautiful women – there were always beautiful women at MacLaren's – and he remembered the night when he'd met Marie.

She'd been with her girlfriends and he'd seen them try their best to cheer her up. He'd watched, like a predator studies prey, as she downed Martini after Martini and as the hour became later, her friends started to drop off, one by one. He'd moved in sometime after midnight, charm turned up and a seductive smile on his lips.

She'd been easy prey. A few comforting words, reassuring her that no, that failed exam wasn't the end of her life, and then she'd been kissing him like there was no tomorrow. He'd gotten them a cab and they'd gone to his place, barely making it to the bedroom.

She was gone by the time morning rolled around and he hadn't given her a second thought.

Until Saturday, that was.

Since then, she'd barely left his thoughts. And it wasn't in a good way.

The others laughed loudly and Barney did too, pretending to have any idea of what they were talking about. His hamburger came and he ate mechanically.

He could try all he wanted to drown himself in work and alcohol, but the thoughts wouldn't leave him alone.

A baby.

A kid.

A little version of him. A thing that needed – well, Barney wasn't sure. The only kid he'd ever been around for any longer period of time was his nephew and whenever Sam had started fussing, Barney always handed him off to his fathers. Other than that, he'd bedded the occasional MILF but it wasn't like he took the time to ask about the names of the MILF's kids, so that didn't count.

He wished desperately that he could go back to Saturday, five minutes before he got the call. Just to be that free and blissfully ignorant.

Lily had told him that it was up to him to decide how he wanted to handle the whole thing. He knew she was right, but that really didn't help. Really, it had been much easier when he'd taken Marie's word as law. It had taken the choice – and responsibility – out of his hands.

But it was his choice and responsibility.

He sighed and wished for alcohol. He knew it was a bad idea, though – and sooner or later, he'd have to handle things sober.

"Wanna talk about it?" Ted asked, looking at him with that look of concern that Barney was quickly starting to hate.

"No."

He knew they meant well, but he'd filled his quota for the month, if not year, for talking.

Robin either didn't notice how little he'd talked or she was ignoring it. Given her history, he figured the latter was very likely.

"That chick over there is totally checking you out," she said, nodding towards a brunette with long legs and a short skirt.

Barney figured that having sex would be as good a way as any to not think about baby-related issues.

He smirked at Robin. "Want to be my wing-woman, old times style?"

She smiled. "Even though I'm in a committed relationship?"

She hadn't been his wing-woman since they'd broken up, for obvious reasons. He realized with a start that if she was entertaining the idea now, then her relationship with Don must be pretty serious. The realization didn't hurt as much as he'd expected.

"I'm choosing to overlook that lapse of judgment for now," Barney said.

"Well then," she said. "For old time's sakes."

She inclined her glass at him, downed the content, and went over to the table where the brunette was sitting.

"Barney, don't you think—" Barney glared at Lily before she had time to finish her sentence. "Never mind."

"Good girl," Barney said.

A few minutes later, Robin returned. "She's all yours."

It took ten minutes for Barney to get the brunette out of MacLaren's and into a cab.


	4. Chapter 4

**Becoming**

By cosmic

**Four.**

Two weeks after finding out, Barney was walking home from work. It was a warm and sunny afternoon, summer arrived but the heat not stifling. After being locked in his office for the entire afternoon, he felt the need to stretch his legs.

He was enjoying the warm sun on his face – where the bruise had finally faded, after two whole weeks of looking like a kid had used all the blue, yellow, green and purple crayons on him – and checking out a few of the ladies when the store popped up in front of him.

Baby and Kid Furniture.

He'd stepped inside before he could tell his brain that this was a really, really, _really_ bad idea.

"May I help you?"

A lady in her early fifties came up to him and he could see her sizing him up. He wondered briefly what she saw when she looked at him, but decided he didn't care.

"I just thought I'd— look around," he said.

He stopped half ways and only breathed the rest out, as he took in the interior of the store. It wasn't so much a store as it was a show room, really, and an exclusive one at that. The large room was divided into half a dozen sections, each with a style of its own, and it was like looking through a window into a perfect nursery. They'd thought of every detail, from the colors of the cribs and basinets to the dressers and changing tables. There were perfect little bows and lace, the colors all soft and gentle.

The lady had apparently decided that she was good enough for her obviously pricy store.

"Is there any particular style you'd like to see?" she asked. "We have a wide assortment beyond what you see here – I'm sure we can meet your needs."

He wondered how she could be so sure that they could meet his needs, when he had no idea what they were. He hadn't even decided whether to be involved in the kid's life.

He was drawn to a section where the colors were a mild green and the woods used were dark and rich. There were little carvings and paintings of fishing frogs on the side of the crib, which was made of wood and looked nice and solid. When he looked at the price tag, he was struck by the sudden thought that when his mother had him, she probably wasn't making this much in a year. With his current salary, though, it would hardly make a dent in a month's income.

He'd been trying to avoid thinking about it. It wasn't working very well – even if he managed to fill his waking life with work, work and more work, and then scotch and whiskey and vodka at night, there were still those few hours when he had to stop to sleep. His dreams were plagued by babies and bellies and screaming children.

He expertly avoided the subject as soon as he was around the others. Marshall hadn't asked out right – though he did send him enough questioning looks – and Robin pretended that the whole thing didn't exist, but with Lily and Ted it took some skills to avoid having to talk.

He realized he was staring down at the crib, running his hand up and down the wooden side. It felt sleek beneath his fingers.

"If you don't know exactly what you're looking for, we can come to your house and give you a suggestion," the lady tried again. "We offer solutions from start to finish."

All he had to do was pay.

It was like with Marie. The only thing she wanted from him was child support.

"Yeah, thanks," he said absentmindedly. "I'll get back to you on that."

He all but ran out of there.

The sun felt suddenly too bright when he got back outside, the air too warm. He pulled at his tie, feeling like it was choking him. He couldn't breathe amidst all of this, amidst all the feelings and thoughts and stupid things that he shouldn't have to handle. He didn't know how to.

He had never planned on this. He never wanted children – mostly because children took up so much time and energy, all of which could be better spent on chasing beautiful women, but also because who the hell would want him as a father?

He had no trouble imagining Marshall as a dad. Or Ted. Really, Ted already had the whole father-voice down. Barney had been subject to that voice too many times to count over the last two weeks.

They'd do fine. They'd play catch with their sons and teach their daughters to dance – or the other way around, if their kids wished. They'd love their children in that unconditional way people talked about, and they'd sing them songs and tell them stories and when the children grew up, they wouldn't hate their fathers.

Barney—he would screw his kids up. He knew it. He was too screwed up himself not to pass it on. He just had to hope that it wasn't a genetic thing, because then the kid would suffer even if Barney wasn't in his or her life.

When he found himself outside of Marie's apartment building, he cursed himself.

But somehow he knew that he had to talk to her. He couldn't discuss this with his friends and he obviously couldn't make sense of anything in his head no matter how hard he tried to.

He knocked on her door, heart beating rapidly.

She opened. She was wearing glasses, which made her look smart and bookish. His gaze traveled down without meaning to and he was pretty sure both her boobs and her belly had gotten bigger since the last time he saw her.

"Barney," she said, eyebrows rising in surprise. "Hi."

His mouth was dry and he couldn't find any words to say. What the hell was he doing there anyway?

She gave him a look that was almost sympathetic. "Wanna come in?"

He wasn't sure, but he nodded anyway.

Her apartment seemed to have gotten even smaller since the last time he was there. A crib – one that looked old and well-used and nothing like the expensive stuff Barney had seen at the store – had been crammed into one of the few empty spots and a bag of tiny baby clothes stood in a corner.

She sat down on her bed. "So, you here for a particular reason?"

He stayed standing, having only barely passed the threshold so that he could close the door behind him. The apartment felt stiflingly small; he longed for the open space of his own place.

"Or maybe you just want to stand there and be silent," she said when he still didn't find his voice. "Well, I need to study. Whenever you're ready to say anything, feel free to do so."

She picked up a heavy tomb and leaned it on her stomach.

"You study law?" It wasn't what he'd meant to say, but he noted the book with surprise.

She glanced down at the book. "Yeah. Never told you that, huh? I'm a first year."

"Oh," Barney said, ineloquently. "My friend's a lawyer."

"Good for him," she said. She paused, looking a little amused. "Now are you ready to tell me why you're here?"

"I don't know." Barney hated not knowing.

"Okay," she said, dragging out the a and making it obvious that she found Barney just a little bit stupid. Barney found himself a little bit stupid too, so that was all right.

"I've been thinking about the kid," Barney said. "The—baby."

"And?"

"And—and I don't know if I can just be—not involved," he said. "I mean, it's my kid, too. And I know that you'll probably be a great mom and I'll probably be a sucky dad, but then there was this baby store with all these baby furniture, and there was a crib and—"

He stopped abruptly. Marie still looked amused, though it was mixed with some surprise.

"You want to be a dad?" she asked. "Really? I mean, considering how I had to hunt down the bartender at MacLaren's just to get your name, much less your phone number, I kind of figured that you were—well, you know. A wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am kind of guy."

"If that's code for awesome, then yeah, that's me," Barney said. "Just so you know, I'm not looking to _wham_ you again. Once was enough. Obviously." He gestured at her midsection.

"Gee, thanks," Marie said, rolling her eyes. "I guess you lose your charm after you've had sex with a girl?"

"Don't usually see them afterwards," Barney muttered, making a face as he remembered Lily dragging him all over town to apologize to four of his conquests.

"But you want to be a dad?" she asked again.

Barney ran a nervous hand through his hair. "I don't know. I mean, I'm awesome, so the kid'll be awesome, so it'll probably be cool to hang out."

She snorted. "I'm not gonna give birth to a drinking buddy for you."

He glared at her. "I'm not a moron." Ted's voice, telling him otherwise, echoed through his head. Really, Ted's voice echoed through his head much too often these days.

"You sure?" she asked, faking sweetness. She stood up, not very gracefully. "Look, Barney, you don't have to be a dad. I made the decision to keep this kid all on my own and I'm not going to force you into anything."

Barney sighed. "I know. But I keep thinking about it."

She went to the desk, crammed in the corner. She came back with a little square bit of thick paper.

"Want to see the photo from the ultrasound?"

His heart was suddenly beating loudly in his ears again. He knew that this was one of those moments – one of those defining moments when his life could go in one of two directions. He could either chose to shake his head and tell her no, he didn't want to see it. Then he'd leave and never look back and in ten or fifteen or twenty years, a kid might come around and knock on his door and tell him that he was the kid's father.

Or—

"Yeah." He spoke in a higher pitch than usual.

The photo was black-and-white. A little figure, looking almost computer animated, was on there. It was a profile picture and Barney followed the lines of the baby's forehead, down its tiny nose and pouty lips. The baby had its fists balled up, but he could see the outlines of tiny, not yet fully developed fingers.

When he looked up at long last, he found Marie smiling at him. "I'm going for another ultrasound in a few weeks. Do you want to come with me?"

His gaze returned to the picture, hypnotizing him.

This was the kid.

His kid.

His baby.

"You want me there?" he forced out through dry lips and over the sound of his heartbeat, loud in his ears.

She shrugged. "I don't mind. A friend of mine went with me last time, but if you're planning on getting involved, then I don't see why you shouldn't be there."

Involved. Did he want to get involved?

Wasn't he already involved?

Now that he'd seen the picture. Now that he'd returned here. Now that he thought about it every second of the day. Wasn't he already involved? Hadn't he been involved ever since she'd first called?

The apartment felt so tiny and crammed. He longed for air, for space.

"Hey, you want something do drink?" Marie asked. "You're looking a bit pale."

He wanted to give a mad laugh at that. He was going to be a dad and his reaction was that he was a little pale? If that had been all, then he'd have been pretty proud of himself.

As it was, panic was brewing inside, making him feel like he was about to explode. His heart was pounding.

At some point, she'd left because now she was back with a glass of water. Or maybe the apartment was just so small that the kitchen was right behind Barney and he hadn't noticed. It was entirely possible.

"We should probably have some papers drawn up," she said. "You know, about the baby. When you can have him, when I'm supposed to—"

"Him?"

She cocked her head to the side again. "Yeah. The baby. It's a boy."

His legs gave out and he slid down to the floor, his back resting against the door.

He was having a baby boy.

A son.

Holy crap.

"Barney? You okay?"

"I just—" he breathed. He stared at the ultrasound picture which was still in his hand. That was a picture of his son.

Panic and disbelief pulsed through him. What the hell was he doing? Why was he still here? Why was he even entertaining the thought of being involved? He was Barney Stinson, bachelor extraordinaire, all legen-waitforit-dary and awesome, living the high life as it was supposed to be. There were no babies in his life plan, not since Shannon broke his heart. He didn't have time for such silly, ordinary things. Changing diapers and listening to a baby scream – he usually just turned up the volume on his iPod whenever he met a screaming kid in a store.

But then there was the picture of the baby in his hand. A little, innocent child who was going to be born into the world without asking for it. He'd made the kid. Him and Marie. They'd created a little human being.

How could he not be a part of that?

The voice that told him he had to be a part of his son's life sounded, again, suspiciously like Ted.

When he looked up he found Marie back on the bed, the book resting on her belly as she studied. He wondered how long he'd been sitting there. His ass was starting to hurt, so he guessed that it had been a while.

Marie looked over the rim of her glasses at him. "Oh, you're back."

He stood up, almost as awkward as she'd been when she'd stood up. "You're sure you want me around?"

She smiled, quite gently. "No, not really. I don't know you, other than from a one-night-stand, and I have no idea if you're a good guy or a bad one. But considering that I think your suit costs like five thousand bucks and I've seen the inside of your apartment, I'd be really stupid to try to keep you from this baby, if you want to stick around. I'm pretty sure you can afford more and better lawyers than me."

He sighed. He wasn't sure whether he was a good or bad guy either and he certainly wasn't sure that this was a good idea.

"Then I guess I'll stick around," he said, and it felt almost freeing to say it.

"Cool." She had a pretty smile. Actually, all of her was pretty, just like most of Barney's other conquests. Their son would be the cutest baby in the world.

Of course, Barney thought. The baby was going to be a Stinson. Of course he'd be cute. And awesome.

He wondered what his mom would think about it.

He took out his phone and took a photo of the ultrasound picture. Come tomorrow morning, he'd need it to believe in what he'd just decided.

"I'll call you when I'm up for my next doctor's appointment," Marie said. "Okay?"

He nodded. It felt like his old self was starting to come back amidst all the shock and panic.

"See you around."

He left, closing the door behind him. There were no elevators in her building, so he strolled down the stairs, feeling oddly calm considering the life-altering decision he'd just made.

When he got outside – the sun had fallen low on the horizon, disappearing beyond the sky scrapers – he picked his phone from his pocket.

He attached the ultrasound picture to a message to Ted.

'_My son. Celebration is in order. Suit up!'_


	5. Chapter 5

**Becoming**

By cosmic

**Five.**

Ted stared at the text he'd just received. There was a picture attached: a picture showing an ultrasound image of a baby.

Barney's son.

Holy crap.

Even though Ted had hoped all the while that Barney would wake up and realize that he should take responsibility for the child, the reality of things only hit him now that he was staring down at the tiny image on his cell phone's screen.

Barney was actually going to be a dad.

Robin came out of her room. "What're you doing?"

Ted looked up at her, slowly drawing his eyes away from the baby's profile. "Barney's gonna be a dad."

"Yeah," Robin shrugged. "He told us that like two weeks ago."

Ted shook his head. "No, I mean, really a dad. Like, involved. He just sent me a picture and—"

He held out the phone so that she could see the image and read the text. He watched her as she took it in, her eyes widening and her mouth dropping open. Obviously, Ted wasn't the only one who hadn't thought Barney was actually going to be involved.

"So it's a boy, then," Robin said, voice at a slightly higher pitch than usual. "Barney's having a baby boy."

Ted gave her a small frown. "You okay?"

Immediately, the walls came up. She smiled and gave him back the phone. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be? It's great. Fantastic. Awesome."

Ted held back a sigh and stopped himself from pointing out that her overuse of positive adjectives only underlined her unhappiness.

It wasn't like she didn't have reasons to be unhappy. The fact that Barney had gotten Marie pregnant very shortly after he and Robin had broken up, for example. That Barney was having a child. Barney, who'd been the only one in the group who shared her views on marriage and children, was now having a kid.

It would be weird if Robin was fine with all of it, even if she had Don these days.

But it wasn't up to Ted to try to get her to admit anything. She obviously didn't want to talk about it and no one was better at sticking her head in the sand and ignoring feelings than Robin Scherbatsky. She'd showed that excellently when it came to both Ted and Barney in the years they'd known her.

"He wants us to suit up," he said instead. "And for once, I think the occasion merits it. You in?"

She grinned and it was only a little fake. "Of course."

Ted shook his head. "Barney. A dad. Who'd've thought."

Robin didn't respond. Instead, she grabbed the phone. "I'm calling Marshall and Lily."

Ted nodded. "We can all meet up at MacLaren's in an hour."

She nodded.

He went into his room, cell phone still in hand. He kept glancing at it in disbelief, but the picture on the screen didn't change. Barney's son was still there in tiny pixels.

He picked out his suit and changed.

* * *

Robin tried to avoid staring at Barney. It wasn't easy.

At some point between last night, when they'd been sitting in the very same booth and Barney had been silent and sullen like he'd been in the last two weeks, and tonight, Barney had gone through a transformation.

Now he was grinning and joking and shouting catch phrases all over the place. He was wearing one of his most expensive suits and on the table, an opened and soon empty bottle of champagne costing a good deal more than her outfit stood, courtesy of Barney.

Barney's cell phone with a photo of the ultrasound image was being passed around, not just among the five of them but among a bunch of the other regulars at MacLaren's. Barney received congratulatory slaps on the back from all over the place.

When the hell did Barney Stinson become a man who was happy to be having a kid?

It hurt somewhere deep down inside of her. Barney had always – long before they got together – been the one in the group she could identify with the most. He lived his life according to his own rules with no intention of ever settling down with anyone, or getting married, or having children. Sure, the two of them had been engaged for a very short while, but that was when they'd been lost and adrift amidst some belief that they had to be Marshall and Lily, version 2.0, rather than themselves. Other than that brief glitch, they'd always agreed that marriage and children wasn't something for them.

And now he was having a baby with some strange girl whom he'd taken home and slept with one night. It had to have been just after they broke up too, when Barney had returned to his serial dating with never-before-seen energy, going home with a new girl pretty much every night, if she was so far along already.

It had hurt then that he didn't seem to be in pain after their breakup. And it hurt now that he just accepted this and decided to be a dad.

But if there was anything Robin Scherbatsky was good at, it was pretending. It scared her sometimes, how good she was at faking smiles and ignorance.

Don was another one in the line of people who slapped Barney on the back. "Congratulations!"

Barney grinned. Robin couldn't see anything fake in his smile. "Thanks. Champagne?"

"Certainly," said Don. He wrapped an arm around Robin's waist, dragging her closer to Barney. Don was aware that they'd been in a relationship and had been a little hesitant around Barney before, but apparently that uncertainty had passed in the face of Barney's impending fatherhood. "Robin, would you like some?"

She liked the way Don looked at her. Like she was his world and like he lived to make her smile. She'd found she smiled more often these days. They didn't fight, not like she'd done with so many of her other boyfriends and certainly not like she'd done with Barney. There were occasional irritations, but their relationship was running smoothly. In a way, Don reminded her of Ted; he was steady and safe, always loving and nice.

"Already got mine," she said, smiling a little too widely and picking her glass off the table.

She caught Barney watching her, eyes suddenly not glittering as they had done all night since the moment he entered MacLaren's.

She pulled away from them both, uncomfortable. Barney had a disconcerting tendency to look straight through her. She didn't want him to see her feelings and call her out on them. She knew she didn't have the right to be hurt about this – they had broken up, they had moved on, and the baby thing had been an accident – she didn't need him to tell her as much.

She went to the bar and Carl gave her a fresh, cold beer. She was nuzzling it when Barney slid up to her.

"Hey," he said.

She glanced at him. "Where's your champagne?"

Barney motioned over at the table, where Don was sharing what was left of the champagne with Ted, Marshall and Lily. Don somehow fit quite nicely into their group. She didn't know how that had happened.

"You wanna go outside for a smoke?"

Robin raised an eyebrow at him. "Isn't it time for you to stop smoking now, daddy?"

He shrugged. "Baby isn't here yet."

"But soon." She tried her best not to sound bitter.

He placed a hand gently on her arm. "Come on."

They weaved through the crowd and went outside. Despite it being summer, the late night air was a little chilly and when she rubbed her bare arms, he handed her his ridiculously expensive suit jacket without hesitation. She smiled in thanks.

They lit their cigarettes and she inhaled deeply. She knew it was completely unhealthy and really kind of gross, but it calmed her in a way few other things did. Well, sex calmed her too, but she didn't feel like dragging Don upstairs right now.

"So," she said when her nerves weren't buzzing quite so much anymore, "You're gonna be a dad."

He gazed at the street. "Yeah. Unbelievable, I know."

They were silent for a few moments.

"What made you decide?" she asked.

He glanced at her. "She called me and told me, wasn't much I could do about it at that point."

"Stop playing stupid." Robin glared at him. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah." He took a long drag of his cigarette, blowing out the smoke slowly. She remembered those lips on her own and wondered what it would've been like if he'd gotten her pregnant instead. If they'd been celebrating their coming baby instead of his and Marie's.

"So?"

"It's stupid," he said. "But I saw a crib and then I went to see her. And it just sort of happened. She showed me the ultrasound picture and I—I don't know."

"You saw a crib," she said, deadpan. "So what, if I show you a ring, are you gonna drop down on one knee and ask her to marry you?"

Of course, that was pretty much what had happened when Barney had proposed to her. A ring in a glass and they'd been too tired to think and she'd said yes. Only later, after they'd broken up had he told her that he really, truly didn't know where the ring had come from. Only much later than that had Ted crept to confessions and admitted that he and Marshall had done it in an attempt to get them to break up.

"Are you angry with me?" he asked.

"No," she snapped.

He turned to her, regarding her with irritating concern. "You are."

"No!" She avoided his gaze, turning away from him.

His hand came to rest on her shoulder again. She could feel the warmth of his hand through the suit jacket – his suit jacket.

"None of this was ever done to hurt you," he said earnestly.

She rolled her eyes, ignoring the heavy feeling in her throat. "I know. I know."

"Robin, look at me."

She turned slowly, eyes downcast. She was not going to cry. There was nothing to cry about and anyway, Robin Scherbatsky didn't cry. They weren't together, she didn't want to be together with him, she was with Don and perfectly happy.

And yet it still hurt, because he was leaving her behind.

"I just thought," she said, and her voice broke. She started again. "I just thought that it'd be you and me. Not—not together, but you know. You and me against the whole couple-dom-family-two-kids-and-a-picket-fence thing. When Lily and Marshall, and Ted and the future Mrs. Mosby all have their kids, I thought it'd be you and me. Without. Because we're the awesome ones."

He smiled slightly, eyebrows drawn together. "We're still going to be awesome."

She sighed. "Yeah. But you're gonna have a kid."

"I am," Barney said. "It wasn't my first choice, but, well. Things happen."

She smiled wryly. "Obviously. And here I thought you were always so careful."

He made a face. "I am. Guess the condom was old, or something. Trust me, it's not going to happen again."

"What, you're going to stop having sex?" She had noted, a little curiously, that the amount of women he'd tried to hit on had lessened drastically in the last two weeks. The only woman she'd seen him take home in that time was the brunette, when Robin had been his wing-woman.

"Not likely, the Barnacle doesn't do abstinence," Barney said. "Two or three condoms on the other hand…"

He trailed off with a smile and she had to return it. He had the most beautiful smile; it was impossible to resist.

She put out her cigarette with the toe of her high heeled boots. "It's going to be interesting seeing you with a kid, that's for sure."

"You just know he's going to be the cutest thing ever," Barney said and then he snorted. "I can't believe I'm saying this stuff."

"Well, it's true. With your genes—"

"Are you saying you find me attractive, Miss Scherbatsky?" Barney leered at her.

She rolled her eyes. "You're too full of yourself." But she had no doubt that any kids Barney fathered would be very, very beautiful, just like their father.

He laughed, then sobered quickly. "But you're sure you're okay?"

"Don't know," she said. "But I have Don and I'm in a long-term relationship, so I guess I can't complain. Just don't expect me to ever baby-sit or anything."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Besides, I'm pretty sure Marie's gonna have it covered."

"Speaking of," Robin said. "Are we going to get to meet the mother of your child?"

Barney made a face. "We'll see."

Robin chuckled. "Is she that stupid?"

Barney shook his head. "No, actually. Law student. Seems pretty bright and she's always studying when I come over. Well, on the two occasions when I've been over, she's been studying anyway."

"Huh," Robin said. "And here I thought all your girls – current company not included – had an IQ below eighty."

"It's more a correlation between state of inebriety, boob size and IQ, rather than just anyone of those things on their own," Barney said, sounding perfectly serious but his eyes were twinkling.

She'd missed this. Easy banter with Barney, but also the meaningful conversations. Neither of them had an easy time opening up, so when they actually did, she was sure he realized just how much effort it took on her part. They appreciated it more than say Ted, because it was easy for him. Ted could tell someone he loved them on the first date and be perfectly serious about it.

Barney had always been different. Marshall and Lily told each other everything they'd done during the day every night, while Robin had a hard time expanding her answer beyond 'fine' when Don asked her how her day had been. Barney had been the same way. Heck, they hadn't defined their relationship in over two months when they'd first started dating. Thinking back on it now, Robin wished they'd never defined their relationship. Things had been better before they did that.

Not that it mattered anymore.

She decided to be honest with him. "I missed this."

Barney gave her a half-smile. "Me too."

"Everything's just been so weird since we broke up."

Barney looked at her suddenly. "Let's make a pact."

She raised an eyebrow. "A pact?"

"Yeah," he said. "A bro-pact. To hang out, even when I have a kid and you're married to Don."

She sputtered. "I'm not going to marry Don."

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. "I bet you twenty bucks he'll propose to you before the year is over. And I'll bet another twenty that you'll say yes."

She wrinkled her nose. "I'm not going to marry someone I've only been dating for a year. I'm not gonna get married at all."

"And I'm not going to have a kid," Barney said. "Oh, wait, I am."

Robin rolled her eyes. "Fine. Twenty bucks says Don won't propose. And twenty that I won't say yes if he does. Which he won't."

They shook on it and she wondered what the likelihood was that Don was going to propose to her. She didn't get why the guys she dated were so keen to get married.

She refused to think about the possibility of her losing the second bet.

"And now," Barney said, "Another handshake to seal the bro-pact. That we'll hang out, no matter what happens."

She shook his hand again. "Just don't make me hold the kid."

He chuckled, then wrapped an arm around her shoulder in a half-hug. "I missed you too, Scherbatsky."

"Hey, do I have to fight you to keep my lady?"

Robin and Barney both turned around and found Don standing a few feet away. Barney's arm dropped from her shoulders. She missed the contact only a little.

Robin shrugged off Barney's suit jacket and returned it. "We should probably go back inside." She smiled at him. "Thanks for the talk."

Barney smiled back. "Anything for a bro."

"You know, there's quite the party going on in there," Don said. "Just thought I'd see if either of you wanted to join us again." He nodded at Barney. "You are the guest of honor for the night, after all."

Barney smirked. "And I'm sure there are a few girls who would love to be my 'guest of honor' tonight in there, am I right?"

He bumped his fist against Don's as he went inside.

Don came over to Robin, kissing her gently. She liked the feeling of his lips against hers, his arms around her; he felt strong and safe. She didn't know yet if it was what she was looking for, if this was what she wanted long-term, but for now she liked the sensation of him being close.

And besides, the sex was good.

They returned inside and her smiles weren't as faked anymore.


	6. Chapter 6

**Becoming**

By cosmic

**Six.**

The clinic's walls were light blue and the chairs hard plastic. Barney was already wishing he hadn't decided to come along. Why would he want to be here? Everywhere he looked there were women with huge bellies. Barney had thought Marie was huge, but there were several others who put her to shame. He tried not to stare.

"North, Marie," called a nurse.

Marie stood and Barney followed her as she headed after the nurse to one of the examination rooms. He could come up with half a dozen things to say, but he figured that all of them were likely to get him kicked out of the room, so he stayed silent as she changed behind a screen into one of the ugly, barely held together tops that the clinic provided.

A nurse – middle-aged, female, grey hair and glasses – came in. She greeted Marie and then turned to Barney. "Ah, I see you've brought a friend."

"He's the baby's father," Marie answered blandly, as though she was talking about the weather.

The nurse smiled. "Then I hope you feel extra welcome." She didn't seem the least bit phased by the fact that Barney hadn't been present at previous examinations. Was it that common for dads not to be around?

Marie got onto the examination bed. It didn't look comfortable at all with the huge mound that was her belly.

The nurse asked her a series of questions about how she was feeling and then took measurements. Barney was zoning out and not really listening, until the nurse started coating Marie's belly with see-through gel. The TV-screen beside the bed flickered to life and then the nurse held some device to Marie's belly.

The ultrasound image of the baby came up, looking fuzzy and pixilated and barely recognizable at first as anything but a blob. After a while, when the nurse found some angle she liked, the picture became a little clearer.

The baby's head, his little tiny nose and lips. Hands suspended in mid-air, each with tiny perfect fingers.

Barney forced his mouth shut.

"He's growing very nicely," the nurse said, smiling. She pointed at the image and explained what they were seeing but Barney barely heard her.

Seeing the ultrasound picture Marie had shown him was one thing – this took it to a whole new level. This was his kid, in real-time, alive and kicking inside that huge belly of Marie's. He'd made this. He hadn't meant to, hadn't wanted to, but he still had.

He sat down heavily on the chair beside the bench.

Some part of him was screaming in fear but most of it was white noise, a sound he'd gotten used to in the last month. Despite the panic just below the surface, he felt strangely numb and peaceful.

The image of his son burned into his mind and he knew he'd never forget it.

* * *

His friends had been pestering him so much about getting to meet Marie that he finally gave in, a few weeks later. By then, she looked like she'd swallowed a beach ball. Barney wondered how it was possible that she was going to stay pregnant for a good few weeks more; she looked about to burst already.

"You want me to meet your friends?" Marie looked a little surprised.

Barney shrugged. "They want to meet you. If I let them, they'll stop bugging me about it every second."

"You sure know how to make a girl feel special," she said sarcastically.

"Not sure you're a girl anymore," Barney said. "You're more—ball-shaped than girl-shaped. Except the boobs."

She glared daggers at him. "I'm _pregnant_."

He grinned. "Oh, yeah, I forgot."

They'd settled into some sort of normalcy – as much as could be achieved between two people who's only common denominator was that they'd slept together one night and the result was going to be a baby. Barney now knew enough about her – beyond the things she'd told him, like what courses she was taking, what she was allergic to, and what her dream job was, he'd also made one of the techies at GNB compile a dossier on her. He wanted to know if she was a terrorist, or if her dad had murdered anyone. Turned out, she had nothing in her history that was any cause for concern. Even her medical file had been clean, save for a broken leg after a skiing accident when she was nine.

She'd probably try to castrate him if he told her about the dossier, so he hadn't mentioned any of it.

Legal papers had been drawn up, detailing the child support Barney was going to pay, and how many hours per week he'd be allowed to have the baby.

That had kept him awake for many, many hours. How many hours did he want?

He'd decided to be involved in the kid's life, but—taking care of the kid? Being solely responsible for a little baby? He'd just figured that he could be the guy who came in and taught his son how to score chicks – until Lily had, a little sourly, pointed out that that wasn't what being a father was all about.

Apparently, being a father involved holding, burping, changing diapers, playing with, singing to and generally being there for the kid.

Barney loved his own mother dearly, but he was pretty sure that she'd never gotten the memo. He remembered being left on his own, with James as a doubtfully qualified supervisor, for days on end. And there had never been a dad to speak of.

His mother had been happy enough when she'd told him about the coming grandson, after she'd made sure that this time it was for real, rather than an actress improvising.

"No actress this time," Barney had said and wondered how much he'd have been willing to pay for this to just be a hoax.

In the dark of night, Barney had ordered a heap of baby books. He hadn't told anyone about it, because he was Barney Stinson and he didn't need any books to tell him how to do stuff – other than the Bro Code that was, of course, but that wasn't even slightly the same thing.

He'd read about birth – he wasn't looking forward to that at all and he was pretty sure he was going to fake being stuck in a meeting when it actually happened – and about the first days, weeks, months. About little tiny babies who couldn't do anything on their own except poop and pee. About 'milestones' to look forward to. He wondered if anyone had ever made such a big deal over him taking his first steps, as the book made it out to be.

He panicked at regular intervals, usually when night fell and he lay alone in his bed. What the hell had he gotten himself into? His heart would speed up to the point where he thought his heart would burst and black dots danced across his eyes.

Life had been much simpler before.

"So, what do you say?" he asked, sitting on her bed and being entirely unhelpful as she tried to clean up the messy thing that was her apartment.

"Fine. I'll meet your friends." She didn't sound particularly thrilled and he wasn't sure why, because his friends were awesome. "Can you please move so I can make my bed now?"

"Sure," he said. "I'll just move to the kitchen." He took two steps to the left.

"Ha, ha," she said, not laughing. "I know this place is small, but it's not like I can afford anything bigger."

"Why don't you live on campus?" Barney asked.

She shrugged. "I lived here before I started law school and now it just seems like a lot of work to move to a dorm that's probably even smaller."

"I'd offer you room at my place," he said airily, "But there isn't any room."

She sent him another glare. She seemed to be in a mood today. He blamed those hormones he'd read about in the pregnancy book that was hidden under his bed.

"You have a room for your suits." She shook her head. "I'm not going to live with you even if you did have 'enough space'. Your place and you—no thanks."

"That wasn't what you said the last time you were in my apartment," Barney leered.

"You should probably get out before I remove some part of your anatomy that you're really fond of," Marie suggested, faking sugary sweetness.

Barney went over to the door. "See you at MacLaren's at eight?"

She gave a put-upon sigh and nodded. He closed the door and left.

Her words about his apartment followed him as he descended the stairs and went outside. He did have a spare room for his suits. With the current predicament of a baby on the way, he realized suddenly that he'd need some place to keep the kid when it was his to watch.

He'd need furniture and stuff. He hadn't a clue what a kid needed, but he figured that there were people who did know. The good thing about making money was that it was possible to pay others to solve his problems.

The kid furniture store looked just as expensive this time around. The same lady that had greeted him the last time welcomed him now.

He didn't stumble over his words this time around, but handed her a business card instead.

"I need a nursery," he said. "Baby boy. When can you come over and give me some suggestions?"

The lady smiled and he could almost see the dollar signs in her eyes.

Later that night, he sat at MacLaren's.

"So she's really coming?" Lily said, sounding much too excited at the prospect of meeting Marie.

"Said she would," Barney said.

"Lilypad, you might want to calm down," Marshall said, rubbing her back. "You'll start hiccupping otherwise."

"You're practically drooling," Ted grinned. Despite his words, however, Ted looked just as excited about meeting Marie as Lily. Barney wasn't sure why – she was just one of his conquests. The really important person was in her belly, and they wouldn't be able to see him, no matter how hard they tried. Barney had tried; he'd hoped he'd developed some sort of x-ray vision, but no, no such luck.

"But she's the mother of Barney's kid!" Lily said.

"I remember a time when Ted here offered to be pissed off at her if I wanted to," Barney said, a little sourly. "Where'd that offer go?"

"That was before," Ted said. "When you were, you know. All sad and unhappy."

Barney wrinkled his nose. "The Barnacle is _not_ 'all sad and unhappy'."

Lily patted his hand. "Yes, you were, sweetie."

"Pfft. With friends like you, who needs enemies?" He glared at the others who just smiled back. Robin's smile was more sympathetic, though, and Barney had a feeling that it wouldn't take much for her to hate Marie, especially not if Barney asked her to.

"Pregnant lady just came in the door," Lily said, almost jumping up and down with excitement. "Like, really, _really _pregnant."

Barney turned and there she was. Marie, in all her pregnant glory. He almost didn't recognize her, all dressed up and with makeup. Ever since she'd barged back into his life, she'd been wearing sweatpants with her hair in a ponytail and no traces of makeup.

She looked almost hot enough to jump when she was like this. Almost. If he kept his eyes at boob level, that was. It was certainly an impressive rack.

"Everyone, this is Marie," Barney said when she came to stand by their table. "Marie, this is Ted, Robin, Marshall and Lily." He nodded at each of them as he said their names.

"Hi," Marie said, giving a little wave.

Ted grabbed a chair so that Marie could sit down next to Robin in the booth. Barney glanced at Lily, finding her almost hyperventilating with excitement.

Things were a little awkward at first, but then Marshall and Marie hit it off as they started talking about law and law school. Lily steered back the conversation to Barney and the baby with regular intervals but didn't seem to mind just listening.

After an appropriate amount of time, Barney stood and headed to the bar instead. It didn't take long before Robin joined him.

"I'm almost impressed with how not-stupid she is," she said.

Barney glanced back at their table. "Yeah. Luck somewhere in all this crap."

She cocked her head to the side. "I thought you were a happy dad-to-be now."

He made a face. "Turns out, kids are a lot of work. Did you know they need supervision pretty much twenty-four/seven?"

She smiled a little. "I've made a point of not knowing that stuff."

"Lucky you," Barney said. He wished he could go back to not knowing. He wished he could go back to seven months ago, when there was no kid on the way.

"You know," Robin said, "I think you're feeling stuff all new parents feel."

"I am _not_ like everyone else," Barney said, even though lately, he'd been feeling terribly ordinary, what with the panic attacks and fears.

She chuckled. "Sorry, my mistake."

He took a quick breath. "You really think this is stuff everyone feels?"

"I don't know for sure," Robin said. "But I know I'd feel the exact same way."

They had always been so much alike. While Ted had been on his wife-quest for the last few years, and Lily and Marshall had long since been joined together with superglue, Robin had been free and awesome. She understood the fun in Laser Tag, she could drink scotch and smoke cigars. Sure, she was Canadian, but that was really the only dent in the package – and considering that the Canada thing had led to unforgettable lyrics such as 'I'm gonna rock your body 'til Canada Day', it was an acceptable flaw.

Most of all, she'd always understood him.

"I'm pretty sure you'll be an awesome dad," Robin said.

Somehow, when she said it, it didn't sound like such a cliché, designed just to placate him.

He thought about responding with an 'of course I'll be awesome!' but decided against it. She hadn't said it to appease him so he wouldn't respond with stupidity.

"Thanks," he said instead.

"You're welcome."

They clinked their glasses together and drank in silence.


	7. Chapter 7

**Becoming**

By cosmic

**Seven.**

"Wow."

Ted stared at the room, mouth slightly open.

Barney puffed up his chest in pride. "Nice, huh?"

"You do realize that the kid won't actually be able to appreciate any of this?" Ted asked. "I mean, by the time he's old enough to get how nice this stuff is, he'll have grown out of it."

"Meh," said Barney. "I won't have my kid sleeping in some regular, mass-produced crib."

Ted suspected this was as far away from mass-produced as one could get.

There was a large mural on the wall, with a pond and a frog in clothes and a hat, lazily fishing. To the side, the crib stood in all its glory – all dark, shiny wood and hand-crafted paintings on the side that matched the mural. The linen in the crib was color coordinated with the rest of the room, of course, in light but earthy colors.

There was a drawer to the side, the top serving as a changing table, made of the same dark wood as the crib. A mobile with frogs hung above it, to entertain the child once it grew a little older. A beautiful rocking chair stood off to the other side, with pillows matching the linens of the crib. Really, everything matched, down to every last blanket.

It had probably cost more than Ted made in a year.

"I guess you're ready for the baby now?" he asked.

Brief hesitation crossed Barney's face before the mask came up and he said smoothly, "Of course."

"So what did you do with your suits?"

Barney made a face, like Ted was dredging up painful memories. Ted followed him out into the corridor and Barney sighed.

"I hope they'll be okay. It's not as nice and big as before, but…" He opened the door to a wardrobe. The suits hung inside. "I had them install temperature and humidity controls. I hope they don't suffer too much."

Ted would never, ever understand Barney's attachment to his suits. He could only hope that Barney would feel the same attachment to his son.

"I'm sure they'll be all right," Ted said soothingly, patting Barney's back. Barney looked unconvinced. "And besides, you probably won't want to wear suits when you have the baby here. They're known to throw up and stuff."

"Stuff coming out both ends," Barney said, wrinkling his nose. "Tell me again why I'm doing this?"

"Because you want to," Ted said, smiling slightly. He was sure that Barney did want to take care of his son, even though he was rightfully scared out of his mind at the prospect.

Barney made a sound that wasn't quite a snort. "So, why're you here, Mosby?"

Now Ted gave him a full smile. "Robin's doing some taping and she needed a lot of people milling around when she does it, and she figured we could do it."

"People milling around?" Barney asked in disbelief. "Why doesn't she just go to, oh I don't know, _anywhere_ in New York?"

Ted tried to look as honest as possible. "It's being taped on our roof. Not a lot of people up there."

"What could she possibly tape on your roof?" Barney stared at him.

Ted shrugged. "I've never watched her show, so how would I know? But come on, it's Robin. Just do it for her."

He knew it was the right way to go when Barney sighed. "Fine. I'll mill about like some random peasant."

"That's the spirit," Ted said, dragging Barney out the door so they could get going. He did his best to keep from smiling too much – Barney would see straight through the façade if he did.

They took a cab to Ted's place and Barney didn't complain as much as Ted would've expected him to. Obviously, though the two had broken up, Barney was still willing to do pretty much anything for Robin. It was nice to see.

Ted's phone rang when they were climbing the stairs to the apartment.

"Oh hey Lily," he said. "Yeah, we'll be right there. Barney took some convincing."

"We'll be waiting," Lily smiled.

He glanced at Barney, who looked disinterested. Ted opened the door to the apartment and Ted had Barney climb before him up the fire escape.

It was almost deafening when the crowd jumped out.

"SURPRISE!"

Barney staggered back, shock on his face, nearly falling into Ted who was just climbing up the stairs.

There were balloons and music and party hats and a crowd almost too big to fit on the roof. Ted didn't recognize half of them, but he trusted Lily and Robin to have invited all the right people and then some. Though the idea of the party had been his, he'd left the planning to the girls.

Barney turned and stared at Ted. "For me? Seriously?"

"Of course, dude," Ted grinned. "Your birthday got kind of lost amidst all the baby stuff, but we figured you wouldn't mind a late party."

"But—for me?" Barney said again. He seemed to have trouble comprehending the idea that they'd do this for him.

Ted slapped his shoulder. "Yeah. For you."

Barney turned slowly. A smile spread across his lips. "_Awesome_."

Lily came over and gave Barney a long, warm hug. "Happy late birthday."

She put a party hat on his head and he rolled his eyes. "Do I have to?"

"Yes," Lily said and kissed his cheek.

His eyes lit up. "Can I do magic?"

"Look over there," said Robin, sauntering over.

Ted watched as Barney's eyes widened when he took in the stage they'd built. It wasn't big or fancy, but it was a stage, and Ted could see the cogs turning in Barney's head as he imagined all the tricks he could show the audience.

Don was there too and he handed Barney a glass of some colorful drink. "Happy belated birthday!"

Ted wondered when Don had gotten comfortable enough around Barney to shake his hand and small talk for a while, but that was what they did. To Ted's knowledge, Don had been on edge around Barney since the first time they met. Obviously not anymore.

Marshall came over and handed him a beer. "Good job on getting him over here."

"Told him it was for Robin," Ted said, leaning back and taking a sip of the beer.

Marshall smiled and shook his head. "Those two."

"Yeah." He wondered sometimes why it hadn't worked out between them. They had seemed perfect for each other – after Ted's initial denial about, well, everything, anyway – but after a few months together, they'd grated on each other so much that there hadn't been anything left of Barney and Robin.

When Ted had talked to Robin, she'd said it was because they were both awesome and that the awesome cancelled each other out. It seemed like far too easy an explanation to Ted. He wondered how much of the problem had been them, their friends, trying to mold them into the same couple-shape that Lily and Marshall were formed in.

He pushed the thoughts aside; this was a night for fun. A night designed especially for Barney, just so that he'd have one night without having to think about his impending fatherhood.

"I don't get him," Ted said.

"Barney?" Marshall asked.

"Yeah. On the one hand, he doesn't seem to want the kid at all – he pretty much freezes whenever I ask him a question about it and then fakes some line about the awesomeness of everything. On the other hand, he's now built the coolest nursery ever in his suit room."

"Well," Marshall said, "The second part is easy to get. That's just Barney. I mean, any one of his suits costs at least three thousand dollars. He doesn't do cheap stuff like the rest of us."

"I wonder what he works with."

Marshall made a face. "After seeing some of the papers lying around his office, I'm pretty sure I don't want to know."

Ted snorted. "You're probably right."

They gazed out at the roof. There were people dancing, laughing, talking, drinking, smiles all across the crowd. They caught glimpses of Barney as he moved between people, chatting up girls and saying hi to old friends and colleagues that Lily had invited. She'd mentioned something about swiping Barney's phone and inviting everyone who had more than just a first name. They hoped that excluded most of Barney's one-night-stands.

Marie hadn't been invited. Ted liked Marie a good deal more than he'd expected to – despite what he'd said just before they'd first met Marie, he had been fully prepared to throw dislike her way if she was bitchy or rude. After all, she had waited six months to tell Barney that he was going to be a dad and that fell into the category of Things One Did Not Do.

He had to remind himself that everyone did things they shouldn't have done. His own de-friending of Barney fell into the very same category as Marie's not telling.

"Is it weird to think that Barney will probably be a pretty good dad?"

Marshall woke Ted from his reverie.

"Nah," Ted said. "I mean, he'll make mistakes, but who doesn't? But he'll probably try harder than any of us will."

Marshall smiled. "I wonder if he realizes that, well, you know."

Ted snorted. "That he already loves the kid? Of course he doesn't. He's Barney."

"True."

Lily came over to them at that moment. "Hey, you two! We're having a party here, if you hadn't noticed. Want to join?"

"We were just talking, Lils," Ted said.

"Talking-schmalking." Lily waved off his words. "Let's party!"

She grabbed his arm and dragged him along. Marshall followed them onto the impromptu dance floor in the middle of the roof where some Lady Gaga hit was going loud.

After a little while, Robin joined.

"Where's Don?" Ted asked.

She motioned at some point to the left. "He doesn't dance."

"Too bad!"

Then Barney joined them as well and the five of them stood in a circle in the middle of the dance floor. Ted had never been a particularly strong dancer – most of his dance moves probably looked more like he was having a stroke – but at that moment, he didn't want to be anywhere else. He was with his best friends and everyone was smiling happily, their arms around each other. They were young and beautiful and free and although things were on the brink of changing drastically, Ted could still take this moment and record it, to be taken out in the future to enjoy and remember.

* * *

Barney awoke with a headache the next morning.

Totally worth it.

The previous night had been legen-waitforit-dary in every way. The surprise of it – he still couldn't believe that his friends would do that for him – and the people and the music and the fun. And then he'd gotten to do magic in front of a whole bunch of people – and they had _clapped_ instead of rolled their eyes. He was pretty sure he had even managed to surprise his friends with his abilities and that made him grin from ear to ear, even when it hurt his head.

He dragged himself out of bed and ran a hand through his hair. Shower, then… something. Probably coffee.

He went to get a shirt from his suit room but stopped.

Not his suit room anymore.

He was still ridiculously proud of how it had turned out, even though the only thing he'd done to get it was pay. It was just that he needed it to be awesome like the rest of his apartment, while he at the same time admitted that it needed to be a little childishly cute at the same time. He thought the balance between cool and childish had been achieved.

Barney ran a hand across the soft mattress in the crib, wondering with horrified, anxious excitement what it would be like when there was a kid in the crib. When his son slept there. What would he feel? Would the icy dread that passed through him with regular intervals give way to something else? Something better? Because he was pretty sure that he wouldn't be able to survive for the rest of his life with all this panic.

He went into the bathroom and took a shower. It felt refreshing and his head pounded a little less.

As he shaved and fixed his hair, he thought about the baby proofing the lady from the furniture store had talked about when she was there, scoping out the room.

For some reason, the lady had headed to the bathroom at some point and she'd made a disliking face at Barney's toilet.

"What is _that_?"

Barney had smiled. "Patented. A toilet for a real man."

She'd tutted. "That will not do, Mr. Stinson. You obviously have no idea of how many accidents involve toilets and children every year."

Nor did he want to know. Barney tried to keep his face neutral.

The lady took a pamphlet from her purse. "Here. This is a pamphlet about child safety. Read it."

Her voice had left no room for argument.

The pamphlet had said stuff about kitchen safety – and not just keeping the knives safe, but about everything from the oven being a possible death trap to the cupboards that could break a child's fingers – and about window locks, baby monitors, and all sorts of other things that Barney had never heard about, much less installed in his precious apartment.

He figured there was still time. As far as he knew, the kid wouldn't exactly come out of the womb walking and talking.

He had just finished dressing when the doorbell rang. The loud sound made him wince.

"Lily," he said as he opened. "To what to I owe this early pleasure?"

"We're taking you out for brunch," Lily grinned and grabbed his arm.

"You know, if you'd just come ten minutes ago, you'd have enjoyed the view much more." Barney leered at her before following her and locking the door.

"I've seen enough," Lily said. "Now come on."

As they got into the elevator, Barney had to comment. "Both a birthday party and brunch?"

Lily shrugged with a smile. "We wanted to give you some fun stuff before you disappear into fatherhood."

"I'm still going to have time for fun," Barney said and it was only a little bit of a question.

Lily's replied, "Sure you are," wasn't as comforting as he'd hoped.

There was a cab waiting downstairs. Barney had expected Ted, Marshall and Robin to be in it, but it was empty. He shot a questioning look at Lily, but Lily ignored him. The cab took them to the café where they were eating brunch and Barney tried his best not to bug the life out of Lily on the way with questions.

He got his answer when they arrived.

Ted, Marshall and Robin had obviously been there for a while, despite the late partying the night before. They had hogged a big, round table off to one side of the room and they sat there, smiling and waiting.

The table's décor didn't match the rest of the restaurant's sleek white furniture, that was for sure.

"Really?" Barney asked, eyebrows raised.

Robin took a picture of him, grinning.

"Yesterday was all about being a bachelor," Lily said. "Today is all about becoming a father."

"I can see that." Barney stared a bit more.

The table was overflowing with baby stuff. There was a basket in the very middle of the table, filled to the brim with clothes in light blues and greens, and a huge heap of diapers, and bottles, and a large teddy bear that reminded Barney of Feely the Share Bear at Lily's preschool. Spread out across the table was more stuff – toys and clothes and bottles of things that Barney didn't have a clue of what it was for.

"Do you like it?" Marshall sounded a little too excited about all the baby stuff.

"It's—I mean, it's baby stuff, but—you guys," Barney said. "You didn't have to do this."

Lily dragged him to sit down at the table. "Of course we did. I'm sure Marie's had a baby shower and you needed one too."

He stared at her. "You're all insane."

"Yep," Lily said happily, sitting down opposite him, beside Marshall.

"Hope you don't mind that we didn't wrap all of it," Ted said. "We liked the effect of it all on the table."

"I especially like the part where all of this is going into your apartment," Robin said, grinning evilly. "It just matches your doll so well."

"It's not a doll, it's a _Storm trooper_," Barney growled at her.

She smiled beatifically.

A waiter showed up. "If you're ready to eat, there is a buffé ready for you."

"Thanks," they chorused.

A little while later, they were seated again – amidst all the baby stuff, although Lily had made sure to fold the clothes up so that no one would spill food on them – and Barney was finally downing some much-needed coffee.

They laughed and talked, Marshall cooing over little jumpsuits and tiny gloves for tiny hands.

"I mean look at them," he said, holding a pair of blue gloves up. "Can you imagine?"

Robin leaned over to Barney and stage whispered, "I think Marshall's catching baby fever."

Barney snorted. "I'm sure his ovaries are tingling."

An hour or so later, they were wrapping up, when Ted stood. "We have one more thing for you."

Barney's eyebrows rose. "Really? More stuff?"

"Yeah. We know you already have the crib, but we figure you'll probably want to go outside with the baby every now and then too," Ted said.

Out of nowhere, he produced a shiny new baby carrier. Four wheels, black, all modern-looking.

Barney stared. "You—"

"It'll work 'till the kid's four years old," Ted said excitedly, "Because you can switch out this part, and then there are all of these add-ons – there's a cup holder and you can put the diaper bag down here and—"

Barney hadn't a clue what he'd done to deserve friends such as these. He was pretty sure he was a bit rotten and bad and he knew he certainly didn't get things right all the time. He had little energy to listen to people when they were sad and of the two-hundred women he'd slept with, he'd lied to more than half to get them into bed.

And yet his friends did this for him.

Ted was still talking when Barney stood up – a little shakily, but he hoped it didn't show – and went over to hug him.

Ted stopped, finally, and Barney could feel the smile against his ear. "You'll be a good dad, Barney."

Barney didn't know what to say, but hoped that Ted was right.


	8. Chapter 8

**Becoming**

By cosmic

**Eight.**

Time passed ridiculously quickly when one wanted time to stand still.

July was turning into August when Barney got the call he'd been both dreading and anticipating for the last three months, ever since The Phone Call.

"Hey, it's Jeanne."

Barney gulped. They'd all agreed that the only time Marie's best friend Jeanne got to call Barney was when—

"Now?" he squeaked.

"Yeah, we're at the hospital," Jeanne said.

He wanted to tell her that he was stuck in a very important meeting, because he really wasn't looking forward to being present when Marie squeezed the kid out. That wasn't a memory of a vagina he wanted. The pictures in the pregnancy book had been more than enough.

But he wasn't stuck in a meeting and for once, the lie lodged in his throat.

"I'll be there." He tried to sound confident but had a feeling that he failed spectacularly.

"Can't wait," Jeanne said, sarcasm lacing his voice. Barney had only met her once and they had both been struck by an instant dislike for each other.

She hung up and Barney sat staring out in the empty air.

Baby.

Baby coming.

Now.

All the stuff he'd bought and all the books he'd read – it was for this. For the kid. For his kid, his son, soon to be born.

Panic rose.

He grabbed his phone and told his secretary, "Get me Marshall," before hanging up. Today, he really didn't care if he was horribly rude. His heart was pounding so loudly in his ears that he could barely hear his own voice.

It had to be a few minutes later, but it felt like both hours and seconds, when Marshall opened the door and stuck his head inside.

"You wanted me?"

Barney nodded mutely, his mouth dry.

Marshall came inside. The door fell shut softly behind him. "What's up, dude? You're pale as a—oh my God, is Marie in labor?"

Barney had no idea how he knew, but it was entirely possible that the panic and gripping fear were written all over his face.

He nodded, his body feeling like lead.

Marshall grinned widely. "Oh, that's so great! Do you want me to come with you? To the hospital? That isn't weird, right?"

Barney nodded again, barely hearing his ramble. Marshall said something about calling Lily and got out his cell phone, speaking excitedly.

Barney's brain just kept repeating the word 'baby' over and over again, together with the sounds of loud alarms.

Suddenly, Marshall was beside him in a cab and they were going down the streets of New York towards the hospital. Barney had no idea how he'd gotten there – for all he was aware of the word, aliens might have taken them on their spaceship. It felt like he was in a bubble.

Then the hospital building came up ahead and reality, with all its sounds and colors and chaos crashed over him.

He turned to Marshall, gripping his arm tight. "I can't do this. I can't. I can't be a dad, Marshall. This isn't me. I'm awesome and single and I'm not dad material at all!"

"I'm sure everyone feels—" Marshall started, but Barney interrupted him.

"No! I'm not everyone! I'm Barney Stinson and Barney Stinson is no one's dad! I can't do this. I don't know why you've been telling me I can – it's all a lie, who in their right minds would want me as their father? I can't do it, I can't!"

He was hyperventilating and everything around him was loud and screaming. The world outside rushed past, an impossible swirl of colors and shapes. The alarms kept ringing in his head and he couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't—

The slap came unexpected.

Barney stared at Marshall, chest still heaving with quick breaths.

"That's five," Marshall said gently. "Now, I need you to calm down. C'mon Barney, just breathe."

Barney stared wide-eyed at Marshall, trying to do as instructed. His cheek stung with pain, but for the first time since the Slap Bet, it was a good sort of pain. It was pain that kept him sane amidst chaos.

Marshall's hands came up to rest on Barney's shoulders, further grounding him.

"Now," Marshall said, still calm, "When you've calmed down, we're going to go inside. We'll find Marie's room and then you'll go in there, and you'll support her. I know you can do it. You're going to be supportive and great and you're going to be there when your son is born. Okay?"

Barney swallowed hard. "But what if I can't do it?"

Marshall squeezed his shoulders reassuringly. "You can. And if you really need to take a break, we'll be just outside. I called Lily and she's coming her as soon as she can get her classes covered, and Ted and Robin are both coming when they get off work. We'll all be there. But Barney, you can do this."

Some part of Barney, in the back of his mind somewhere, protested against needing Marshall's reassurance.

The rest of him ignored that part and reveled in the feeling of almost fatherly affection Marshall was showing.

He could do this.

If Marshall said he could, then he could do it.

He swallowed and nodded, taking a deep breath and trying to steel himself for what was coming.

Marshall paid the cabbie and they made their way to the hospital entrance. Barney noted that Marshall was walking closer than usual, maybe ready to grab him if he tried to bolt, or maybe just to be there if Barney needed it. It felt oddly comforting.

"Hi," Marshall said to the nurse in the reception. "We're looking for Marie North. She's in labor."

The nurse nodded and after checking her computer, she said, "Maternity ward, room two-ten. Down that way and to the left, there are signs."

Marshall nodded and thanked her. Barney was glad that he didn't have to do conversation – he was still re-learning how to breathe. His hands were shaking as he walked.

They found the maternity ward's reception. The nurse pointed them in the direction of the room and Barney thought they found it way, way too quickly. He wasn't ready for this.

They pushed the door open.

Barney wasn't sure what he'd expected – Marie screaming her head off, maybe? – but it wasn't this. She was lying calmly on a bed, small-talking with Jeanne, dressed in a hospital gown and with a monitor beeping next to her.

Both women turned when Marshall and Barney came inside.

"Hi, Marie," Marshall said. "I'm just making sure he gets here, I'm not staying."

Marie smiled. "I don't mind. My crotch isn't on display just yet."

"Good to know," Marshall said.

Marie looked at Barney. "Has he gone mute?"

Marshall rubbed a hand over Barney's back and it felt a little like it was someone else's back, not his own. Barney wondered how Marshall could be so calm, but he figured it was different when it wasn't his kid.

"He's just a little nervous," Marshall said.

Jeanne rolled her eyes. "It's not like he even needs to be here."

"Shush," Marie said. "He's the baby's father, of course he should be here."

Barney wanted to argue that if he didn't have to be there, then he might as well leave, but the words caught in his throat. Marshall had told him he could do this, so he would.

"How are you feeling?" Barney asked, croaking out the question.

"He speaks," Jeanne muttered.

Marie ignored her and smiled a little at Barney. "The contractions are about five minutes apart, so it'll be a while yet. We just thought it was better to get in here, since all of my mom's births have gone really fast."

"Better safe than sorry," Marshall smiled. "How many siblings do you have?"

Suddenly, they were small talking as though the world wasn't about to change. Barney could only stare.

Then, in the middle of one of Marshall's stories, Marie's face scrunched up and she forced herself to take long, deep breaths. Her hands balled into fists as she breathed. It took Barney a little longer than he wanted to admit to realize that she was having a contraction.

Marshall settled him in a chair at some point. Barney felt like he was back in the bubble, where sights and sounds were a little bit dimmed. Nothing felt quite real, until Marshall's hand returned to his shoulder, safe and warm.

Time passed but Barney had lost the ability to understand the clock. It might have been an hour, or five. He had no idea. Marshall talked and smiled with Marie, Barney sat more or less frozen, and Jeanne read a book, ignoring them all. When a midwife came into the room to see how dilated Marie was, Marshall stood.

"Jeanne, would you like to accompany me for a cup of coffee?"

She obviously saw straight through the hint for her to leave Barney and Marie alone, and with a glare, she got out of her chair and followed Marshall out.

Barney stood up, next to Marie, as the midwife hoisted up the blankets covering Mare.

"Nine centimeters," the midwife said after a little. "You'd better get ready."

Barney recalled reading that ten centimeters was needed. He had no idea how a baby's head could possibly fit through that size and he didn't want to think for very long about it.

Then Marie grabbed his hand in a tight grip as another contraction took hold of her.

"Just breathe through it," he said, surprising himself by the softness of his voice. "You're doing good."

As the contraction passed, she looked at him in surprise. "You do talk. I just thought you were going to be quiet and then pass out."

He swallowed. "I don't exactly know how to be helpful here."

"What you just did was nice," she said, smiling slightly.

"Okay." He noted her sweaty brow and looked around for some water. He found a plastic cup on the stand next to the bed and held it out to her. "Want some?"

"Yes, please."

She drank and gave him back the cup. They were silent, but somehow there was comfort in the close proximity. They weren't lovers, weren't together, but they were still linked. They were on the brisk of parenthood and no matter how understanding and nice Marshall was, he wasn't part of this. Only Marie was.

He felt useless as another contraction grabbed Marie, making her grimace. She held onto his hand again and he found he didn't mind so much, because maybe that helped her a little and he didn't feel quite so much like a waste of space.

Marshall kept Jeanne away, Barney noted with some satisfaction, hoping that Marie didn't wish for her friend's presence.

The contractions kept coming closer and closer together. At some point, the room filled with medical type people and Barney and Marie were told that Marie was dilated enough.

"We'll start pushing with the next contraction, okay?"

Marie had her legs up and the midwife was seated between her legs. Barney wondered how much blood and gore there would be and hoped that he wouldn't faint; that would not be awesome.

Marie nodded through gritted teeth and grabbed Barney's hand. He suspected she'd break something before this ordeal was over, but he vowed to himself to shut up about the pain.

When she started pushing, it barely felt like he was there. He said things to her, hoped they were encouraging, hoped they helped at all, but she was screaming and squeezing his hand until there was no blood left in it. The midwife kept up a stream of encouragement as well.

There were little pauses, little tiny breaks when Marie let go slightly of his massacred hand, and then—

"Time to push again – you're doing great, good job, just a little longer," the midwife said.

Then they said the head was out and Barney stared down beyond the large swell of Marie's stomach, to the area between her legs.

He could see the top of the baby's head.

His son.

There was blood and gooey stuff on him, but—it was his son.

"All right, take a deep breath," the midwife said, and Barney followed her instructions too, belatedly realizing that it was meant for Marie.

The midwife said something about the baby's shoulders and Marie nodded.

"I can see him," Barney said.

Marie glanced up at him. Her hair was plastered to her forehead, all sweaty and icky, and she was panting hard – but there was a look of wonder in her eyes nonetheless.

Then she snapped back as another contraction hit and she screamed again and again, pushing and forcing the baby out.

Barney thought he heard a wet sound, something slipping out.

The world stilled.

Marie panted hard, close to him, her breaths echoing in his ears.

And then a scream.

Tiny fists, blood-streaked body, lungs filling with air for the first time.

"Dad, would you like to cut the cord?"

The midwife was looking straight at him, holding the baby in her hands.

Dad.

She was talking to him.

A nurse held out a pair of scissors to him and his hand shook violently as he took them. Each step he took towards the baby felt like it was a mile long.

A nurse told him where to cut it and he did it, although he was horribly scared that he'd hurt the baby. He didn't dare look at the child, not yet, not—

"You have a healthy son," the midwife said. "Congratulations."

Barney stared at the baby.

He was covered in gore and his face was all scrunched up, and his head was almost cone shaped. His body looked more like that of a frog than that of a human, his legs drawn up to his chest and tiny arms pulled tight. There were little fingers and tiny toes, and a little nose and red lips.

His son.

The baby was swept away by a nurse to be cleaned off, weighed and measured, while Marie pushed out the placenta.

Barney felt his vision swimming and he sat down heavily on a chair.

Then the nurse came back and placed the baby – now dressed in blue with a hat on his head – atop Marie's chest. Her hospital gown was open and the baby found the breast, little fingers almost digging into her skin.

"He likes boobs already," Barney said faintly.

Marie chuckled tiredly, for once not irritated with him for his womanizing comments.

Barney forced himself to stand again, to come over to her side. He stared down at them, in awe and disbelief.

"You know," he said gently after a while, "I'd expected him to be cuter."

Marie snorted. "You expected a mini-you."

"Can you blame me for wanting a copy of this?" He smiled at her.

"You're so full of yourself. And he's perfect."

Barney bent down and kissed her forehead. He couldn't remember doing that since Shannon, but right now it just felt right. It didn't matter that she was sweaty – after what she'd just done, it was okay.

"You did good," he said.

"You weren't so bad yourself."

The baby – their son – sighed softly and suddenly, Barney understood everything about milestones with the baby and why it was the coolest thing ever when the child smiled at its parent for the first time. Just hearing him sigh made his heart soar with pride. Barney couldn't wait for—everything.

"We made that," Barney said, staring. "How did we make that?"

Marie smiled slightly. "As I recall it, I was drunk and you were—"

He barely heard her jab at him; he couldn't stop looking at his son.

"Do you want to hold him?" Marie asked when the baby had stopped feeding.

He'd held babies before, but never one so small as his son. His insecurity must have shown on his face.

"You won't drop him," she said.

"'course I won't," Barney mumbled, hoping it was true.

His hands were shaking and he wondered absently if they had stopped shaking at all since Jeanne called his office.

The little baby boy felt mostly like an unshapely lump in his arms. There was no stability anywhere and he was careful to support his head and neck as had been underlined and bolded in the books. Only a little uncomfortable, he managed to get a good hold on him, resting him in his arms.

He had a tuft of blond hair on his head just like his parents, barely visible beneath the blue hat, and his eyes were round and sky blue. He was staring and though Barney knew he couldn't focus, he still imagined that the baby could see him.

"Hey kiddo," he said. "I'm your dad."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Marie smile.

Barney wondered how long it would take before he truly realized that he was a dad now. He was pretty sure that he was still in shock, because it couldn't possibly be this easy. It couldn't just be looking down at the tiny little face with the big eyes surrounded by dark lashes, and the tiny nose, and soft pink lips—

It couldn't be so easy to love his son, as to just look at him. There had to be more to it than that; there had to be more work, more hardship.

The baby yawned – he yawned! a part of Barney's brain yelled triumphantly – and Barney's heart melted just a little more.

Barney glanced at Marie, but found that at some point while he'd been engrossed in the baby, she had fallen asleep. Considering the work she'd just done, he understood that. Barney wasn't sure he'd be able to sleep for a few days himself, though, not with all this adrenaline coursing through him.

There was a knock on the door and it opened to reveal Lily.

"Hi," she said. "The doctor said—can we—"

She stopped, mouth open, catching sight of the bundle in Barney's arms. The others came in after her and they came to a complete halt, just like her.

"Guys," Barney said softly as to not wake Marie, "Meet my son."

They walked in further and Barney met them half way, moving oh so carefully with his precious burden. His son seemed to think that it was as nice a place as any to nap, because his eyelids closed and he was asleep a moment later.

The others stared at the baby as though surprised that after all the drama, a real baby had actually been born.

"He's adorable," Lily squealed – quietly, but still was definitely still squealing – when she found her voice again.

Barney beamed, feeling ridiculously proud of himself. He hadn't really done much – the production part had been good fun and after that, the only real pain he'd suffered was getting his hand nearly crushed.

He conveniently forgot all about the panic attacks and the anxiety he'd suffered.

Ted peered down at the baby. "He looks like you."

"Really?" Barney asked. He couldn't see any likeness, at least not yet.

"Yeah," Marshall agreed. "The nose and the eyes."

"He'll be very handsome when he grows up," Lily smiled.

Robin was the only one who stayed back a little.

Barney looked up at her. "What do you think?"

She seemed surprised about being actively drawn into the conversation, but her face softened into a smile.

"As far as kids go, I guess he's okay," she said.

Barney grinned. "And you know, Marshall, I was here all the way through. Gory parts and all."

Marshall clapped his shoulder. "Good job, man."

Then the baby pursed his lips and made a little sound and Lily and Marshall both went 'aww'.

"Baby fever," Barney said to Ted, still grinning.

His son felt warm in his arms, warm and safe and _his_ in a way nothing had been in so very long. This was his son, his responsibility, his precious burden.

He hoped he wouldn't screw up too badly. Looking around at each of his friends, he figured they'd be around to tell him if he was acting like an idiot. He had no doubt he would, although he hoped it wouldn't happen too often.

He was surprised to realize that he felt both content and happy, standing there in the hospital room with his newborn in his arms and his friends around him. For the first time in months, he decided he loved his life.


	9. Chapter 9

**Becoming**

By cosmic

**Epilogue.**

He had loved his suit room dearly, with each of his suits in its spot, the temperature and humidity both set to perfection so that no harm would fall upon the garments. There had even been a point where he'd considered naming each of his suits, just to create an even more special bond to each of them.

And yet none of that compared to the way he loved his son.

He'd been surprised at first, that that first wave of love crashing down upon him in the hospital as soon as he set eyes on his son hadn't dissipated once the baby had started screaming an hour later. Somehow, the feelings had stayed strong – and even now, three months later, they hadn't changed.

If anything, they had grown.

With each new milestone they crossed, the pride bloomed in his chest a little more.

Kyle Joseph Barnaby Stinson North.

Joseph after Marie's father, Barnaby of obvious origin. Kyle because they'd agreed on it. It had taken a while to find something they both liked, to say the least.

Both last names, because he was a little bit of both, although he'd go by his mother's name in official dealings.

There were moments when Kyle tested his patience, though. Like right now, as he tried to squirm his way out of his father's arms, screaming unhappily all the while.

"You're going to make daddy deaf," Barney muttered.

Kyle screamed in agreement.

The microwave oven pinged finally and Barney got the bottle out, testing it against his wrist to make sure that it wasn't too hot. What had been awfully scary the first few times – what if he'd made it too hot? What if he scalded his child? What if, what if, what if? – had now become routine.

"There," Barney said, pushing the bottle's nipple into Kyle's mouth. "Happy?"

The baby hiccupped and started drinking, accepting the bottle quickly. Sometimes it took a few tries; obviously not tonight.

Barney didn't want to know what time it was, though if he had to hazard a guess, he'd say three, maybe three-thirty.

A year ago, he was probably having sex with some random chick.

How things changed.

Barney carried Kyle back to his room. The rocking chair in the corner had proved invaluable – while the baby preferred being walked to sleep, he would also accept being rocked to sleep and the latter was definitely preferable at ungodly hours of the night and morning. Barney sat down and righted the pillows so that they were both comfortable.

Silence filled the room, the only sounds heard being Kyle greedily sucking milk from the bottle.

Barney closed his eyes.

He hadn't wanted any of this. He could still remember the panic and horror he'd felt when Marie first called to tell him. He remembered the subsequent drinking and gambling and jail and—well, there had been a lot of stupid stuff.

He still feared he'd screw his son up. He had no doubt that he would get a few things wrong – but he was starting to understand what Lily had really meant when she said that being a father was about being there for the child. It was about being there. It was about bout loving them, no matter what.

He could do that.

He gazed down at Kyle.

He could definitely do that.


End file.
